TITLE:  The Genesis Project IX 
AUTHOR:  aRcaDIaNFall$ 
FEEDBACK: arcadianfalls@yahoo.com.au
RATING:  PG-13 
SPOILERS: tiny one for Beyond the Sea, possibly One Breath...  
CLASSIFICATION: SR, *lotsa* A, M&S married, kidfic, alternate universe 
SUMMARY: Mulder and Scully investigate an unnaturally lucky town 
and discover tragedy lurking beneath the surface. Erin's sickness 
is starting to wear the family down and affecting Mulder, Scully 
and the kids all in different ways to a point that it can no 
longer be ignored. Meanwhile, Jacqueline discovers that everything 
comes at a price. 
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I plead creative license, and herein issue a warning:
kleenex alert! This is gonna get angsty... 

The Genesis Project IX 
by aRcaDIaNFall$ 

     - - - - } - - - - } - - @        t h e   x - f i l e s  

- SCULLY POV - 

"'Cakes are cooked when center springs back at light touch -' Erin!
That's hot, don't touch it! Erin!!" 

A wail of pain that had become all-too familiar over the past months
filled the apartment. Marking my place in the case file and running to
the kitchen, I found Astrid holding Erin's right hand under running
water. Erin was screaming and squirming, in protest at being held as
much as the pain of the burn, it looked.  

I reached to take Erin from Astrid, taking her hand in mine and
examining it. The tips of her index and middle fingers were pink and
looked like they might blister. Poor baby. Even tiny burns like that
had a habit of hurting like hell and stinging for hours.  
I kissed the fingertips gently and straightened up the sunhat Erin
wore. It was floppy brimmed, pink gingham; a little too big, so it kept
slipping, but it was one of her favourites, though an odd choice in
winter. But her hair was so thin and wispy that we were happy as long
as she wore something on her head to keep her body warmth in. That
meant whatever she chose for the day from her enormous and still
growing collection of beanies, hats, scarves and bandanas. On her worst
days that morning ritual was sometimes the most fun she had.  

I held her a few moments longer, considering putting some burn cream on
the fingertips but dropping the ideas as she wedged her fingers in her
mouth and started sucking on them, whimpering quietly, her head resting
on my breast. We both watched as Astrid pried all of the cupcakes out
of the baking tray to cool, and started getting out the icing
ingredients.  

"Are you going to help Astrid with the icing?" I asked Erin gently. She
shook her head, burrowing closer against me, fingers clawing my
sweater. I nudged a chair back from the kitchen table and sat down,
still holding Erin, kissing the top of her sunhat. All morning she'd
been cheerful, cheeky, helping Astrid with the cake mix, licking all
the spoons. But that brief second of pain had been enough to scare her.
She still didn't cope well with pain and hurt. But why should a child
not yet two have to?  

Astrid brought the cakes and icing over to the table and I started to
help her ice them. Erin kept reaching for the knife I was using and I
let her help me, my hand around hers as she grasped the knife, helping
her lather icing on the cupcakes and smooth it down, stopping her from
trying to lick the knife clean. The more times I stopped her, the more
determined she became. Stubborn, stubborn baby. I loved her so much for
it, though it made life difficult sometimes. 

"Mommy?" It was Josh, standing in the doorway. "It's quarter to three."

Quarter to three? Already? "Where's Daddy?" 

"Still asleep." 

We were all sleeping crazy hours these days. We got sleep whenever we
could, which sometimes wasn't often. "Well, wake him up - No, I'll do
it." I stood, slipping Erin down onto the chair and giving her the
icing bowl to scrape clean. The icing was lemon flavoured, matching the
cake. It was the only type of cake Erin would eat. 
 "You get ready to go, Josh. Then take over watching Erin and let
Astrid get changed." Both of them were still in pajamas.  

Why did I still bother voicing these instructions? I wondered, heading
off to our bedroom. Even though Astrid always managed to end up running
late for everything, she didn't forget these things. And Josh was a
walking personal organiser for all of us. They were both independant
enough to organise getting out of the house, even in an emergency.
They'd certainly had the opportunity to prove that to us. And yet... it
wasn't that I doubted them. It was because I needed to stay in control,
or at least with the illusion of it. There wasn't much we still had
control over. 

"Mulder?" I crouched beside the bed and patted his unshaven cheek
gently. I felt so guilty about waking him, but we'd be late to Mom's as
it was and I didn't want to spoil the afternoon.  

He groaned, reaching to rub his eyes and rolling over, facing away from
me.  

"Mulder, we're running late." 

I could understand exactly how he felt, that utter loathing of even the
thought of having to get up, the total lack of energy. If there was
*need*, if Erin was throwing up or crying or having a reaction to a
drug and needed to be taken to the ER, then we could still spring up
out of bed despite the exhaustion. But without desperation to drive us
it was sometimes near impossible to drag ourselves up to face the day.
We'd dealt with a lot of pain in the past but never before had the pain
and heartache been such a long, grinding process. Our endurance was
wearing thin.  
  

I called the kids in and they lunged on Mulder, literally dragging him
up off the bed. We arrived at Mom's three quarters of an hour late but
everybody's spirits had picked up - maybe at the sight of several
inches of dazzlingly white fresh-fallen snow. Erin was allowed to carry
the plate of cupcakes into the kitchen and dropped them. Astrid dived
and caught them before they hit the floor, somehow then managing to
turn Erin's trembling lip into a smile. I yawned as I hugged Mom hello,
explaining that we'd all stayed up last night for the New Years Eve
countdown.  

It had been a stupid thing to do under the circumstances - we were all
exhausted - but the kids had insisted we maintain the tradition.
Jacqueline and Noah had come over, too; not that that was such a rare
occurence. You didn't have to be psychic to see how lonely she was,
even now that she was back at work. She loved Noah, you could tell, and
yet I knew every time she looked at him she thought of Graham, and that
couldn't be easy. She was having to think about Graham enough as it
was; no matter how many times she changed home and work and cell phone
numbers he still kept calling her. She was scared. 
  

"Mommeeee!" Erin grinned at me. She was wearing a dripping chocolate
icecream beard and mustache. I grinned back, glad that she was happy.
Mom always found simple things to cheer Erin up with.  
She ran the moment she saw me reaching for the wetwipes and I chased
after her through the dining room into the lounge room, grabbing her
under the armpits and swinging her up. She protested "No!" as I tried
to clean her up, wriggling out of my arms and running off again. It was
a game and I wanted too much for her to be happy to reprimand. I chased
her again, this time managing to get her cleaned up. Then I followed
her outside, watching as she drove her little Fisher Price car around
the back patio, knocking over several empty potplants. The car had been
a Christmas present from Mom, kept at her place because she had more
room outside to use it. Erin loved it and we loved to watch her in it.
She became just another ordinary toddler. We treasured that. 

The kids got suited up and Mulder took them out into the backyard to
play in the snow. Mom and I sat on the patio to watch, talking about
work, Erin's treatment, the family she'd seen over Christmas. Erin's
ANC had been down during the holidays so we'd opted to spend it just by
ourselves. Jacqui had been alone with Noah; we'd invited them over, but
Noah had had a cold, and we didn't want him passing it on to Erin. I'd
felt guilty somehow despite that, knowing how terrible it was to be
alone over the holidays, knowing things were tough enough for Jacqui as
it was. But things had been tough enough on all of us. 
  

"Hey Daddy, did you know that you have seventy-two feet of nerve fibre
on each square inch of your hand?" 

"Did you know that one day on Mercury is the equivalent of one hundred
and seventy-two earth days?" Astrid piped up, not to be outdone by her
little brother. She grinned, lunging at Mulder. It was the happiest I'd
seen her in weeks. 

Josh was looking more relaxed too. He'd been getting nervous again
lately, insomniac. Mulder or I would often go for a walk or jog with
him late at night, trying to tire him out so that he'd sleep. Even when
he did sleep, though, he always had that haunted look. But now... he
was smiling, and that had become a rarity. Giggling as he and Astrid
hurled snow balls at each other and Mulder. Chicken soup for the soul,
I thought. Josh wasn't the only one having nightmares and sleeping
problems, and Mulder and I weren't the only ones who had troubles
getting up in the mornings. Astrid's ninth birthday had been spent in
the ER after Erin wouldn't stop vomiting. Life was hardly a picnic. But
it was refreshing to have this opportunity to be relaxed, to enjoy the
blue sky and fresh snow and real home cooked food - how long had it
been since we'd had *that*?  

It was good to be, for once, not afraid. 
  

     - - - - } - - - - } - - @        t h e   x - f i l e s  

- MULDER POV - 

"Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!" Down on her hands and knees, Astrid threw
herself at Erin, letting out a low growl. Erin matched it with an
earpiercing shriek, sloshing through the snow on her little legs to
hide behind me, giggling. Astrid prowled closer, circling me, growling.
Erin was giggling so much she was getting hiccups, staying hidden
behind me, clinging to the fabric of my snowpants.  

Astrid let out another one of those eerily realistic growls and lunged
closer to us, but Josh flew at her from behind, tackling her, the two
of them wrestling in the snow. I crouched down so that I was Erin's
height and grabbed a handful of snow, packing it tightly, making sure
Erin was watching before I tossed it at the kids. It hit Astrid on the
arm and she didn't seem to notice, too busy trying to bury Josh in the
snow. 
Following my lead, Erin crouched to scoop up some snow with both hands.
Awkward with the thick mittens, she tried to pat it into a ball,
straightening up again. Before she could throw it, though - she would
be lucky if it flew two feet - I swung her up into the air and took a
few steps closer to the kids. Erin shrieked with delight as she dropped
the snowball. It hit the back of Astrid's head, knocking her beanie
off, and then slid down her bare neck. Astrid let out a howl, releasing
Josh and jumping to her feet.  

"Erinnnn! Daddy!" she whined, pulling faces as she tried to brush the
melting snow from her collar. Erin was giggling again. 

"Okay, that's enough for now." Scully's decisive announcement came from
the porch. I glanced at my watch, understanding. Winter was a minefield
of viruses and infections as it was; we didn't need Erin picking up a
cold from simply playing in the snow. 

Erin protested the decision but I lugged her inside despite the squeals
of protest. We would have let Astrid and Josh stay out longer but they
followed in, peeling off wet layers. Erin's snowshoes had soaked
through and her feet were icy cold, as well as her hands and face. I
took her upstairs for a warm bath, massaging her hands and feet to keep
the blood flowing. With all the chemo and side-effects we'd been using
massage increasingly to help Erin feel better. It helped us, too, to be
able to physically help her feel better without just pumping more drugs
into her system.  

She was sleepy after the bath and I put her down for her afternoon nap.
Margaret had an old crib that Erin slept in when they stayed over, but
I let her down on the doublebed in the room instead, stretching out
alongside, talking to her as she fell asleep. She was such a funny,
beautiful child. So earnest, like Josh, trying to tell me something,
but sleepy, confusing herself. She dropped off and I just lay there,
running my fingers through the still-damp ringlets.  

I heard a sigh from the doorway and glanced across. Scully stood there,
a wistful smile on her lips. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you."

I shook my head, stretching out my arm. She came closer, let me wrap my
arm around her waist, leaned in against me. She held an open tub of
icecream, almost cradled in her arms. The kids had been eating it
earlier. It was choc on choc, the only type of icecream Erin would
eat.  

She climbed onto the bed beside me and sat crosslegged, digging into
the tub of icecream, offering me the spoon. I grinned, my hand over
hers as I licked it clean. She retracted the spoon and I reached up to
touch her cheek lightly.  

"I love you." 

She began to smile but then suddenly grimaced. I recognised the
expression, evidence of the fleeting nausea of persisting
morning-sickness, and ribbed gently, "That wasn't the response I was
hoping for." 

She was turned away from me, drawing deep breaths. It had been several
weeks since it had made her actually throw up but still - "You okay?" 

She held a hand up - 'wait'. Another deep breath, then she nodded,
still not looking at me. "Yeah. I'm fine." 

I took the tub of icecream from her lap and dug into it, offering her
the last spoonful. She looked at it, then at me, then she smiled. There
were lines etched around her eyes, her brow was creased. She was tired
and life was tough. But she was smiling. 

I let her lick the spoon clean then pushed the empty container aside. I
offered her my hand. She took it, uncertain, tiredly amused. I tugged
and she understood, unfolding to stretch out on her side, wriggling up
alongside me. And she kissed me. Her mouth on mine was warm, familiar,
but after only a few seconds I pulled away, kissing her cheek lightly
before withdrawing. That was as intimate as we had gotten the last
several weeks. My fault, probably. I hadn't tried to analyse it, hadn't
wanted any more issues to deal with. We were just keeping things as
simple as possible. Besides - 

I gently tugged her loose shirt up, nudging the bare belly to indicate
the buttonfly of her jeans. The top button was undone, a concession to
her bump. She hadn't kept any of her maternity clothes. This hadn't
been planned. 
"We've got to tell Skinner some time. You can't hide this pregnancy
forever." 

Her frown deepened. "Things are complicated enough... We're taking too
much time off as it is. We can only push Skinner so far." 

"He's not going to fire us," I protested. "He understands." 

The frown didn't budge. "We owe it to him. It's not fair to expect him
to keep understanding. Time off for Erin's treatments, more maternity
leave... I feel like we're just not doing our job." 

I caressed her forehead gently. "Don't, okay? Just... don't." 

She nodded but her heart wasn't in it. I leaned closer, instigating the
kiss myself this time. There was something pleading, almost desperate
in it and she seemed to come alive as she responded. It was as if the
action summoned up every shred of fear and loyalty and territorialism
we had of each other. I don't want to lose you, it said. I love you too
much to lose you. I'm afraid because we have no guarantees this time
tomorrow one of us won't be lying on a cold slab and the other broken. 
It wasn't quite a case of a life lived in fear but it was a reminder;
of the so many - too many - times we'd fought and struggled, of what
we'd lost and won. It was surprisingly easy to take each other for
granted and forget how much we loved each other. It was frightening,
driving us to a strange sort of passion, a mutual need for reassurance
of life and love. 

"Daddy!!"  

I chuckled sheepishly as I pulled away from Scully and turned to Erin,
who threw her arms around me, looking up at me petulantly. I took her
hands, pretending to eat them. She giggled. 

"How are you feeling, monkey? You woke up pretty soon, huh?" 

Another giggle. She wriggled out of my grip and crawled across,
straddling Scully and tugging at her sweater. "Hiiiii Mommy." 

Scully smiled, gently prising Erin's hands away, taking them in her
own. "Kiss for Mommy?" 

"Mommy gotted kiss." 

"Mommy got a kiss, already?"  

"Daddy givee kiss," Erin explained patiently, tugging at Scully's
necklace.  

"Yeah. That's right. You're a clever girl, aren't you?"  

"Yessss." Erin giggled, sticking her tongue out, hissing like a snake.
She lunged forward and gave Scully a peck on the cheek anyway, then
patted Scully's cheeks gently.  

Scully grinned and I smiled, wanting to embrace them both, to capture
the beauty and joy of the simple scene so I'd never forget it. Erin was
clever, so observant and articulate. Every second to watch her and hold
her and love her was a joy. What would we ever do if we lost her? How
would we manage to fill that place in our lives? 

"Daddy sad?" Erin was looking at me, pouting.  

I smiled for her. "Daddy loves you very much." 

She grinned, not catching the undercurrent of grief in my voice. She
dived at me, kissing me and hugging around my head, giving my hair a
brief tug.  

I pulled her away from my face to look over her shoulder at Scully. She
returned my look; wistful, happy but guarded, trepidation in her eyes.
I longed for the day where I would see the happiness unmarred by fear
and doubt, when we could look at each other without that fear deep down
that something was going to go wrong, something beyond our control.
Something always did. 
  

     - - - - } - - - - } - - @        t h e   x - f i l e s  

- SCULLY POV - 

My self-proclaimed sleep-in was called to a halt by the doorbell at
8am. It was Astrid's friend Tay-lah, a sweet black girl with a soft
Brooklyn accent. Astrid picked up and dropped friends at an astounding
rate and eleven-year-old Tay-lah was the latest and had been around a
lot, coming home from school with Astrid every second afternoon to work
on homework together or, as Astrid put it, 'resting our minds' by
hiding out in Astrid's room listening to music. It was a different
phase for us as well as Astrid, who til now had shown no interest in
top ten songs on the radio. Bach, Mozart and Beethoven she could have
told you about, but not the latest boy band or perky blonde singer
barely out of her teens. Until now.  

I was pretty sure any hope I had to get back to sleep was dashed the
moment Tay-lah arrived and they headed into Astrid's room but Astrid
surprised me by opening the door a crack and announcing that she and
Tay-lah were going to walk down to the park with Erin. Astrid never
missed an opportunity to treat Erin and display her
toddler-controlling-skills in the process.  

Closing my eyes, hoping to wallow in the comfort at least another ten
minutes, I was dozing when the door was opened again. 
"Mommy?" 

It was Josh, who had evidently *not* been invited to go along with the
girls. I couldn't blame them - after all, who wanted their brother
tagging along? - but I felt for Josh. He was always there for Astrid,
so loyal to her, and constantly ditched. Boy, did I know how that felt.

I yawned. "What is it?" 

"Tay-lah's unhappy." 

I forced my eyes open at the statement. "What do you mean?" 

He was frowning and I patted the bedcovers beside me. He climbed onto
the bed, scooting up and sitting hugging his knees. "She's unhappy and
I don't know if Astrid really knows what to do about it." 

That was a long sentence by Josh standards, still. 

"You think she's not sensing Tay-lah's unhappiness or she just doesn't
know how to deal with it?" 

"The second." 

"What's making Tay-lah so unhappy?" 

Silence. He chewed his lower lip and turned his face away. Did he not
know or just not want to tell? The latter, I guessed. 

"We'll see how things go, huh?" I promised evasively. Tay-lah had been
over only a couple of days ago and we hadn't had a problem. 

Josh nodded in agreement. "You can get some more sleep, Mommy." He bent
down to kiss my forehead and slid off the bed, slipping out of the
room. I yawned, letting my heavy lids close, feeling already
half-asleep. 

I slept for three and a half more hours. Still feeling tired when I
woke, I dragged myself up out of bed, showered and dressed. It was only
going to be a stay-at-home day but instead of plodding around in sweats
and a soft t-shirt I put on new jeans and a new white jersey top,
combing and drying my hair, even applying a little mascara. It was
silly, but I wanted badly for this to be a good day. I felt oddly
love-starved, despite our session the day before at Mom's. It was a
hormonal thing, I knew. Mood-swings caused by the pregnancy and stress
of Erin's treatment. I was craving attention and affection, which
wasn't always so easy to get, under these circumstances. 

The girls had returned and Erin was now in Mulder's care. He was trying
to teach her how to play Go Fish, a lost cause but a wonderful sight to
behold. Watching her grin, you could almost forget the hollows still
around her eyes and the reason for the candy cane striped beanie on her
head.  
"Did she take her meds this morning?" 

"As angelically as always." Mulder's lips quirked. 

I was surprised that hadn't woken me. The argument was usually pretty
loud. Stubborn little kid, she still refused to accept having to
swallow pills was part of her every day life. Sometimes she shrieked
and screamed, sometimes we yelled. That always made us feel guilty as
hell, though it was the most effective way of getting her to behave. 
  

I hadn't had breakfast yet but the kids were wanting lunch. I made
Erin's then let them have run of the kitchen, sitting with Erin,
ensuring that she ate every bite. She had the same thing every day;
peanut butter sandwich, no crusts, and apple juice. It was the most
ordinary meal she ever had. The rest of the time we were juggling the
few ingredients she would eat, trying to come up with something
original in the ten minutes while dinner for the rest of us reheated in
the microwave. 

"Erin, finish off your juice, sweetie." 

Busy pulling faces with Mulder, she pushed the cup that I offered away
like an unwelcome distraction. 

"Erin, drink it." I took her hand, unclenching the fingers and pressing
them through the handle. "Now, sweetie." 

I wouldn't lose my temper with her over such a trivial - but *always* a
problem - event, I vowed. Mulder, seeing me bite back frustration,
wrapped Erin's other hand around the cup. "You gonna finish that off?
Apple juice is good for you. Makes you big and strong, just like
Mommy." 

I smiled at that one, nodding a brief thank you to Mulder as Erin
drained the cup. I eased it from her grip and stood. 

He was looking at me strangely and I stopped. "What?" 

"How about we go to lunch? Just you and me." 

"Now?" 

"Sure. The kids are fine with Erin for an hour and we won't go far.
Just... out of here." 
  

So we went out to lunch. Mulder actually *asked* if he could hold my
hand as we walked from the car, then pulled back my chair for me in the
cafe. I hadn't gotten that sort of treatment for a while. 

"So, what's up?" I wondered aloud, eyebrow cocked teasingly though I
was genuinely a little apprehensive. Had he brought me here to tell me
something? What? 

He shrugged. "We never get out together on weekends." 

"So -?" 

"So, I want some time with you that I can almost guarantee one of the
kids won't interrupt." 

"We have lunch together almost every day at work," I pointed out,
relaxing a little, pretty sure I knew where he was going but wanting to
play with it. 

"Yeah, but people frown upon two FBI agents making out during lunch
hour." 

I grinned, eyebrow rising higher. "So you've brought me here with the
expressed purpose of making out?" 

"Unless you have an objection." 

I smiled. How wonderful it was to pretend we were just two people on a
date, flirting, having a meal together with no crying or tantrums or
special high-calory diets. These days Erin always came first, then Josh
and Astrid, and we couldn't forget my pregnancy either. There were too
many people and things needing to be taken care of, higher priority
than ourselves. To be focused on was comforting. "No objections here." 
  

Despite the banter, though, we barely touched during the meal. But
rather than sinking into comfortable silence like we often would we
both made the effort to keep the conversation alive, witty, every word
and action charged with a lately-dormant sexual undercurrent. How could
we still, after so many years, be so attracted to each other, still
thrilled at the touch of a hand? Thank you God, I thought fiercely.  

We rose from the table and he came closer, arms slid around my waist.
"How do you feel about a cheap hotel?" 

I rolled my eyes and chuckled, shaking my head. 

"Expensive hotel?" 

I shook my head again, grinning and standing on tiptoes to press my
lips against his. As wonderful as a crazy, irresponsible afternoon
sounded, we should get back to the kids. Who knew what Tay-lah's
parents would think of us leaving their daughter and our three children
alone in the apartment. We knew Josh and Astrid could handle Erin was
responsibly as we could, but not everybody could see that.  

He kissed me back, then started working his way down my throat.
Thinking it was getting a little *too* much for the middle of a cafe
during lunchhour, I pushed him off me, sending him to go pay the check.
He caught up with me outside and I caught his hand, swinging it as we
walked side by side, giving each other grinning sidelong glances,
almost shy. 

What was it that had caused this mood? I wondered. But my question was
answered when I looked at Mulder. Attentive and adoring father,
obsessive FBI agent, husband who had only ever remembered my birthday
three times... and, under all of it, a man with a heart almost as
guarded as mine, scarred by a lot of past hurt. That man had been
getting lost under meds timetables and backlogged casefiles and paying
bills. I loved seeing him with the kids, there was no doubt about that.
But sometimes I just wanted to get back to him and me, the very
basics.  
  

     - - - - } - - - - } - - @        t h e   x - f i l e s  

- MULDER POV - 

Astrid begged that Tay-lah be able to stay overnight, arguing down any
objection Scully put up. She would lend Tay-lah pajamas. They wouldn't
stay up too late, she promised.  
Scully and I only shrugged and put the ball back in her court. Tay-lah
dialed her father's number, asking someone called Shirley to put
Tay-lah's dad on the line. Scully's eyebrows rose as she took the phone
to speak to him. It was a brief conversation, and after getting
permission Astrid and Tay-lah dashed off again. I stood, trying to
gauge Scully's expression. 
"What?" I asked finally, unable to figure it out. 

"He sounded drunk," she admitted, face still unreadable but eyes
troubled.  

Not our problem, I wanted to say, as callous as it sounded. We had
plenty of problems of our own to worry about. "Then I guess we're okay
with Tay-lah staying over," was all I said. Scully nodded. 
  

Erin was being difficult and ran off during dinner, but the meal was
otherwise pleasant, the kids joking and giggling, everybody relaxed and
lighthearted. After we'd all finished we sat Erin back at the table and
she stayed there til every last bite of her dinner was gone, Scully and
I taking turns patiently spoonfeeding it to her. It wasn't so much a
game as a protest - she would much rather be playing with her toys or
the others than eating the often bizarre combinations of calory-packed
foods we served up. Forget balanced meals, we were just trying to keep
some flesh on her bones. A lot of the medications made her throw up,
especially the cytoxin. She couldn't keep anything down for days after
that. And she was so picky. How we missed the prednisone period!  

The last bite gone, she took off, joining the kids as they watched TV
and getting a hug from Josh. She was making life so difficult for Josh
and Astrid, taking up so much of our time, needing so much. It only
made them love her more. Were Scully and I even that generous?
Sometimes, maybe. In easier times.  

I found Scully in our bedroom, slumped over the edge of the bed, head
resting on clasped hands - praying. She was praying more now than ever
but more often than not it only seemed to upset or anger her further.
Was she arguing with God? I wondered.  
She heaved a sigh and got to her feet, absently straightening the
covers of the bed. Tonight, at least, she seemed at peace as she turned
to face me. She didn't get defensive and ask how long I'd been
watching, only gave me a brief smile, tucking her hair back behind her
ears. 

I smiled back, a little relieved. "The kids are going to start up a
game of Trivial Pursuit. Interested?" 

She nodded. "Sure." 
  

The lamp was unplugged again. Another x-file, we joked about it. A
dozen times in the last week we'd gone to switch on a light or
appliance to find it unplugged. Nobody was 'fessing up and with Erin's
propensity for tugging she was the obvious suspect. We plugged it in
again without much of a second thought and started the game. 
  

I reached for a card from the box. "Which ancient Croatian city has
been called 'the jewel of the Adriatic'?"  

"Dubrovnik," Astrid answered promptly. She grinned. "Easy." She rolled
again and landed on Entertainment. Entertainment and sport were her
weakest categories. 

"What Brando son was gaoled after he shot his half-sister's lover?" 

Astrid pulled a face and reluctantly surrendered the dice to me. I
rolled and landed on History. Scully grabbed a card, eyebrow raised as
she read the question.  

"What tribal group is associated with South Africa's Inkatha movement?"

I hesitated only a fraction of a second. "Zulus." 

I rolled again. 

"Who ran one hundred metres in 9.79 seconds at the Seoul Olympics?" 

"Ben Johnson." 

Rolled again.  

"What card game was Charles Goren associated with?" 

"Who the hell is Charles Goren?" 

"'Contract bridge'." 

I held out the dice to Scully but didn't relinquish my pincergrip on
it. She shook her head, smiling in amusement as she tried to take it.
"Mulder, let it go." 

I pouted, playing with her. She tried to wrestle it off me with two
hands, tumbling onto my lap, giggling. Childish? Absolutely. I managed
to wriggle out of her grip and held the dice aloft. "Give me a kiss and
you can have it." 

She reached for it and I wondered why she bothered to try, my arms were
so much longer. Then I tickled her. She shrieked, then giggled some
more. I leaned closer, planting a kiss on her lips. She was still
smiling as she pulled away, rolling her eyes as I pressed the dice into
her open palm. I love this woman, I thought feverently. I never want to
stop loving her.  

It was as Scully was wriggling off my lap that we realised something
was up. Tay-lah and Astrid were gone. Josh was standing, frowning
anxiously.  

"What's wrong?" Scully asked sharply. 

"Tay-lah was crying." Josh looked at us uncertainly. "She ran out and
Astrid followed her." 

"Do you know why?" 

Scully was frowning. "What's making her so unhappy, Josh?" 

"Her parents are getting divorced." Josh looked at the ground. "They're
fighting over her." 

And Astrid was her sole comforter? Astrid wasn't exactly the most
tactful child in the family. 

Scully met my eyes, then rose quietly. "I'll go check on them." 
  

     - - - - } - - - - } - - @        t h e   x - f i l e s  

- SCULLY POV - 

Tay-lah was huddled on Astrid's bed, face buried in her hands. Astrid
was sitting on the edge of the bed, chewing on her lower lip, watching
Tay-lah but not saying anything. She looked up when I entered the room,
relief crossing her face, followed quickly by apprehension. I sat
beside Astrid, giving her hand a quick squeeze. 

"Tay-lah?" No response. "I understand that you're going through a tough
time, sweetie. Do you want to talk about it?" 

I was tempted to give up, just let Tay-lah have some time alone. After
all, it wasn't our business. But I felt that despite that it had
somehow become our responsibility. Especially since our little scene
out there had triggered this. 

"I hear you're having some problems with your mom and dad." 

She raised her tear-stained face to look at me. It was contorted with
anger. "I hate him. I just want to be with Mom." 

"You just want to stay with your mom but they won't let you?" 

"I'm staying with Dad over New Years 'cos I was with Mom for Christmas
but I hate staying with Dad and Shirley. They don't even want me there.
Dad just hates Mom and wants to make things hard for her. He's so
stupid. I hate him." 

I frowned, studying her face. "Tay-lah, does your dad ever ...hurt
you?" 

She shook her head. "He doesn't abuse me or anything. I almost wish he
would, 'cos if he did Mom could have full custody and we wouldn't have
to worry about it." 

I nodded and told her quietly to take some time and come back out when
she was ready. Astrid followed me out of the room, tugging at my sleeve
and stopping me in the hallway. 

"Mommy?" 

"Yeah, sweetie?" 

"You and Daddy wouldn't ever fight over us like Tay-lah's parents are
doing, would you? I mean, just to be horrible to each other?" 

"If we fought over you it would be because we loved you all too much to
let you go. But it's not going to happen, Astrid. We wouldn't do that
to you." 

"You can't guarantee that you're never going to get divorced," Astrid
objected. She always got a little embarrassed talking about these
things, voicing deepest fears. "You act sometimes like you don't want
to be together at all. Not lately, but sometimes." 

"Daddy and I love each other very much," I said softly. "We spend a lot
of our time together and sometimes because of that we get too close and
feel a little smothered, we get sick of having each other around.
Things can get very intense. It doesn't mean we don't still love each
other." 

"I know," Astrid agreed, eyes on her fingers as she picked at the
nails. She worked up the courage to make the confession, "Joshie and I
used to worry about you and Daddy getting a divorce, who would get
custody. We were so scared that we'd have to make a choice and that
we'd get split up..." She looked up, teary-eyed. "Please don't you and
Daddy ever get divorced, Mommy. *Please* don't." 

I wanted to promise her that we wouldn't, but I held back. Instead, I
drew her against me. "We wouldn't want that any more than you do,
sweetie." 
  

Returning to the living room I let Mulder draw me close, gently kiss my
temple, but my mood was far more sedate. I didn't say anything, just
let him hold me, fingers splayed across my stomach possessively,
protectively.  
Erin had been napping and was still looking sleepy when Astrid brought
her out, letting her to the floor with a half-peeled banana. We went
back to our game but Tay-lah didn't reappear and after half an hour or
so the kids were losing interest. It was just on nine and I told the
kids to start getting ready for bed, knowing that if Tay-lah was still
awake she and Astrid would talk for hours.  

I was watching from the couch as Mulder and Erin played on the floor
with her blocks, contemplating heading for bed myself but unable to
pull myself away from the sweet scene, when the door buzzer went.  
"I'll get it," I reassured Mulder, heading for the door, almost knowing
before I opened who it would be. And I was right. Jacqueline stood
there, gripping Noah's carrier with both hands. 

"Hey, Dana." She gave me a weak, brief smile and I ushered her in
silently. This wasn't the first time Jacqueline had turned up
unexpectantly, nor the latest hour. A twist of irony, it *had* been
three in the morning when her cab from the airport dropped her on our
doorstep. After walking out on Graham and her long flight she was
barely keeping herself together; upset, exhausted, crumbling. She
hadn't improved much since. 

"I've taken out a restraining order against him," she announced,
putting the carrier down. Noah, awake, stared at me with big brown
eyes.  

"Against Graham?" 

She sat down on the couch and shot me an impatient look. "He called me
again this afternoon, begging me to go back to Australia, threatening
to 'expose' me." 

It wasn't the first attempt he'd made at contact. How he managed to get
a hold of her new, unlisted numbers so quickly was frightening. But,
then, we'd always underestimated the man's power.  

She jumped up and started pacing. Talking about him always angered her,
always filled her with a sort of panicky vengeance. She wasn't handling
his efforts well. But then, how do you handle a violent, manipulative
man like that? 

"I just thought he'd eventually give up, you know?" She looked across
to me, gesturing pleadingly. "But with every day that goes by he's just
stepping up the harrassment. I hate - *hate*! - that he's doing this to
me. He's such a bastard." 

I nodded, watching as she started pacing again. In his carrier Noah was
whimpering and I lifted him out, smiling at him in greeting but unable
to stop the wince when I caught a whiff of his diaper.  
"Somebody needs changing," I announced.  

"Again?" Jacqui ran her fingers through her hair impatiently before
reaching to take her son. "I changed him twenty minutes ago. Damn...
Can I borrow your changetable?" 

I gestured toward Erin's room. "It's all yours."  

"I'll do it." Josh stood in the doorway in pajamas.  

Looking glad to be relieved of the task, Jacqui readily handed Noah
over. "You're wonderful, Josh." She grabbed a disposable diaper, tucked
in the carrier, and handed it to him. "Give me a yell if there's any
problem." 

Josh nodded and disappeared. Jacqui slumped down on the couch,
massaging her temples and growling in frustration. "Everything's such a
mess, Dana. *Everything*." 

"I know that things are tough for you," I agreed. She was silent but I
could see the genuine confusion in her eyes - indecision - and I knew
this was about more than Graham. "What else is going on? Besides
Graham, I mean." 

She ran her hands through her hair, then again and again, unable to
keep still, not wanting to look at me.  
"Aaron Harrison asked me out," she admitted finally. "Just for dinner
at his place after work some night. Noah, too. Just a real homecooked
meal and some company." 

"Are you going?" 

Chewing on her lower lip, she shook her head and shrugged. "I don't
know. I like him Dana, I really do, but I don't want to get into
anything at the moment. I don't know who I can trust and I can't just
let myself get into something serious again. I don't want to. The idea
of being touched by a man is just... it makes me shudder, makes my
bones cold. I don't want that right now." 

"He could just be offering friendship. It's no secret how unhappy
you've been." 

"Maybe." She looked unconvinced. 

We were silent til Josh returned with Noah. Instead of returning him to
Jacqui or the carrier, though, he took the baby over to where Mulder
and Erin were still playing with the blocks and sat, holding him on his
lap, giving him a block. Noah started to suck on in. Josh took that
piece away and, mindful of germs, put it aside out of Erin's reach. He
gave Noah another block, this time guiding the baby's hand to putting
it down. Noah wasn't interested and started to whine.  

Jacqui dropped to the floor beside Josh and took her son, lifting him
into her lap. "Who's such a crybaby, huh?" I heard her murmur. 

She glanced back at me. "Hey, Dana, could you grab the babywipes from
my bag?" 

I found her shoulderbag and rifled through. I found the babywipes, but
my fingertips touched on something else that awakened my interest. I
withdrew it, holding it carefully as I checked it over. 

"Jacqui, why are you carrying around a Sig Sauer?" 

Jacqueline looked at me slowly, expression guarded and guilty. Her arms
closed around Noah. "It makes me feel safer. You understand that, don't
you? I'm such a scaredy-cat..." 

"You're strong. Physically and mentally. You underestimate yourself." 

She looked away, shaking her head. 

"You were only a kid and you sacrificed your own freedom for that of
Josh and Astrid. If that's not bravery I don't know what is." 

She sighed shakily, ducking to kiss the top of Noah's head. Mulder was
staring at her over the top of Erin's beanie. Even Erin was gazing
ahead at - her half-sister? her cousin? her aunt? - Jacqueline with
wide eyes as if she understood the meanings of the words 'sacrifice'
and 'freedom' and 'bravery'.  

I checked the gun over again and returned it to Jacqueline's bag,
tossing her the babywipes. I nudged Josh gently. "Bed, sweetie." 

He nodded, saying goodnight to Mulder, Erin, Jacqui and Noah before
leaving. I followed him out, knowing how important it was that the kids
get the attention they deserved, waiting for things to slow down, for
the Dana Scully pie to become easier once again to equally divide. 
  

     - - - - } - - - - } - - @        t h e   x - f i l e s  

- MULDER POV - 

I couldn't remember if I'd been asleep or not. All I knew was that I'd
been lying awake for a long time, possibly hours. It was hard to keep
track. I didn't look at the clock. Time didn't really matter. 

She stirred and I thought for a moment that she was going to roll over.
Instead, her eyelids fluttered open and as she saw me her eyes
widenened in what I thought was surprise. I suppose she wasn't used to
waking up in the middle of the night and finding me staring at her.  

"What are you doing?" Her voice was slurred with sleep, curious. 

"I like watching you sleep," I admitted sheepishly, reaching to graze
her cheek with the backs of my fingers.  

She smiled. "I thought you tired of that years ago." 

"Nope." I grinned, loving the sweet intimacy of the conversation. When
was the last time a midnight conversation had been more than a brief
discussion over whose turn it was to tend to Erin or a few grunts in
acknowledgement of each others' presence before rolling over and
getting back to sleep? 
"I could watch you sleep even if you slept a hundred years," I
declared, teasing gently. "I'd have to go pee occasionally, but..." 

She grinned widely, albeit still sleepily. "Yeah, that's really
romantic, Mulder." 

"After all these years you still expect romance?" 

"Once a week, at least. Go to sleep, Mulder." 

"You make it sound so easy..." 

Her smile vanished. "Insomnia?" 

Yes, but I nevertheless regretted bringing it up. "Nah, I'm okay." 

"Sure?" 

"Absolutely." 

"Hey, Mulder?" 

"Yeah?" 

She smiled. "If it makes you feel any better, I had no idea who Charles
Goren was either." 

I chuckled. I'll love you til the day I die, Scully. "Git to sleep,
woman." 
  

     - - - - } - - - - } - - @        t h e   x - f i l e s  

- SCULLY POV - 

Tay-lah's mom came to pick her up just before midday. I went down to
the kerb with Astrid, watched as she hugged Tay-lah goodbye, noted as
they drove off that the car was packed full of luggage. 
"Her mother is running away," I told Mulder quietly, returning to the
apartment. Astrid was subdued, as aware as we were that she wasn't
likely to see her friend again. 

"We should do something," Mulder said carefully. 

"We should," I agreed. 

Neither of us moved. 
  

     - - - - } - - - - } - - @        t h e   x - f i l e s  

- ASTRID POV - 

Joshie kept unplugging things. I saw him doing it a couple of the times
and saw the guilt on his face every time Mom or Dad discovered
something unplugged and remarked on it. But he kept doing it, like it
was some sort of obsessive compulsion. 

"What are you doing?"  

I'd only whispered but he jumped, turning around to look at me. He was
frowning, unhappy and kinda nervous, maybe even embarrassed. He held
the unplugged toaster cord in his hand. 

"Why do you keep unplugging everything?" I asked, more direct. "What's
going to happen?" 

With Mommy or Daddy he usually hesitated a bit but not with me. "A
fire... because of an electrical short." He licked his lips nervously. 

"When's it gonna happen?" 

He suddenly got a lot unhappier, like he was going to cry. He shook his
head helplessly. "It's too vague." 

Josh's feelings had been getting stronger and stronger over the past
few years. Why were they now getting hazy again? Sure, I never got
really strong feelings, only that niggling sensation that said
something was up but didn't say what. But I'd never gotten it as
clearly as Josh had. He overtook me years ago. Was it going away
because he was getting older, maybe? Or was there just something wrong
this time, something blocking it? Or maybe it was just too far away to
see clearly. 

"Well, then it's probably not going to happen soon," I said carefully,
trying to console him. "You'll know when it's really going to happen." 

He nodded but he was still frowning. Poor Joshie. I gave him a quick
hug. I couldn't say for him to not worry about it, because he would. I
couldn't even promise him that everything would be okay because I
didn't know that it would. Life must be hard for Mommy and Daddy, I
realised, because they couldn't promise us those things any more than I
could Josh, because it would be a lie. Mommy and Daddy never lied. 

     - - - - } - - - - } - - @        t h e   x - f i l e s  

- SCULLY POV - 

It was only a night-before hint from Astrid that reminded us of her
school's Careers Week, which included a full day stint at work with us.
We'd been reluctant to agree to that, the strange collision of work and
family life, concern over whether Astrid would be able to occupy
herself, that she wouldn't serve as too much of a distraction. And, to
be honest, we were trying our damndest to keep our family life separate
from work. Not that our marriage was a secret - nothing was a secret,
thanks to the staff grapevines - but it seemed that our relationship
was some sort of hallowed territory that led to quiet respect from
peers. After all, they heard about every trauma we went through. By now
we belonged to an entirely different realm. It seemed only natural that
we have a different set of standards. But to bring a daughter to work
and actually allow her to join in the case solving instead of just
putting her to work photocopying or fetching coffee? Was that too much?
Should Astrid spend the day at the clinic with Jacqueline instead? 

Despite our apprehension about Astrid's presence, though, she seemed to
be enjoying herself. She displayed a tremendous aptitude for the work,
making leaps of Mulder proportions and then digging out the evidence to
back it up. She seemed to find the whole process fascinating, wanting
to know every procedure and protocol, every detail of each case. Put an
x-file in front of her and she was Mulder through and through. I even
found her digging into his sunflower seeds. 

She was curious about us, too. Watching how differently we interacted
at work, I guess. Not that we didn't often take work home with us, sit
at the kitchen table with crime scene photos discussing MO's and
autopsy results. But this was still different. Walking through the
Bureau doors stuck 'FBI Special Agent' on our characters as well as our
names. 

"Careful, Astrid," I called, seeing her climb up onto a deskchair to
reach a pile of reference books. 

"Mommy!" She looked at me, offended. "I *am* being careful." 

"Hey, I'm just watching out for you," I protested, adding
affectionately, "That's what we do for each other in the X-files." 
  

     - - - - } - - - - } - - @        t h e   x - f i l e s  

- MULDER POV - 

Scully had taken Astrid for a tour around the building earlier so
taking her to lunch was my job. We got Chinese, bringing it back to the
office. Scully had gone to get some lab reports so we started without
her - Astrid protested that but I promised her Scully wouldn't mind. We
ate all our meals at home together. Lunch at work was often a break
from each other. 

Astrid sat on the edge of the spare desk, swinging her legs as she dug
into her fried rice.  
"What do all the FBI Agents think of you and Mommy?" 

"Honestly?" 

A nod. 

"They think we're crazy. Well, that I'm crazy, anyway. They think
Scully's crazy too, for sticking with me all these years. They've been
wondering for the past ten years what we do down in this office - and I
don't just mean work. They think we're trouble and they've been trying
to get rid of us. And yet, despite all that, they think we're
...legendary." 

Astrid nodded, considering the statement. "They thought that you and
Mommy were ... you know, having sex, before you adopted me and Josh?" 

I grinned, amused by the question. "They thought that from about our
third case. Mommy and I used to drive each other crazy, you know. I'd
have a definite theory and she'd put up every argument to try to
disprove it. It was intense. There were always sparks. It made people
wonder." 

"Mommy used that word too - intense." She eyed me curiously. "But you
and Mommy... you didn't even kiss each other til we were around. It was
all really new to you... You and Mommy were trying to figure out each
other. You looked pretty silly, you know." 

I chuckled, remembering for myself the awkward first few moves. "Well,
it was worth the sacrifice." 

She smiled, then ducked her head as if embarrassed, staring into her
rice. "You did it, didn't you? Not with each other, I mean, but with
other people. Sex with other people." 

She spoke bluntly, quickly as she corrected herself, not looking at
me.  

"Yeah, I did," I admitted softly. "We both did." 

"Do you regret it?" 

"Very much." 

"Why?" 

"Because I've been hurt by a lot of women and I know I've hurt them,
and all for nothing. It's all so shallow... But, more than that, it's
because I think of all those men in Scully's life before me and I would
do anything I could to erase them, because they hold a part of her, and
she of them. I know Scully must feel the same about those women who
were in my life before her. I hate my past because of that. I regret it
because I know that it tarnishes what we have, that all those past
lovers will always be... ghosts." 

"Why do people do it, then?" Astrid wondered aloud, frowning. 

I shrugged. "Because they're looking for love." 

"God says that sex before marriage is wrong." 

"God's a smart guy." 

"But nobody listens to Him. You didn't." 

Hoo boy... "I don't really know where I stand on that, Astrid." 

"Mommy didn't listen, either. She doesn't know where she stands." 

I felt a discomforting flutter in my chest. "She doesn't like to talk
about that. If she did -" 

"You'd be too weirded out by it all to really listen to her," Astrid
finished. She ducked her head again sheepishly in response to my
curious, awkward silence. "Josh and I talk about this stuff,
sometimes." 

"Where do you and Josh stand?" 

She bit her lip. "We don't talk about that. Not really." 

She was clearly uncomfortable and I didn't want to push her. Instead I
said easily, "Mom and I are more fun to talk about, huh?" 

She nodded, giving me a small smile, aware she'd been let off the
hook.  
"A lot more fun." 

     - - - - } - - - - } - - @        t h e   x - f i l e s  

- ASTRID POV - 

It was strange seeing them at work. Really, really strange. It seemed
like they were constantly off in different directions, barely touching
even as they did take half an hour to stop and discuss something. His
hand briefly on her arm as he read over her shoulder, their hands
touching when he handed her something, their heads close as they
whispered to each other something I wasn't supposed to hear. They
sounded different, brisker. More professional, I guess. Businesslike.
An occasional joke or sarcasm, but so dry. And yet they were so in
sync, always knowing exactly where the other was up to, what the other
was saying. I'd never realised the extent to which they had minimised
their methods of communication. Just the way she said a word would get
her exact meaning through to him. He just had to look at her and she
knew exactly what he meant. It was amazing, but kinda scary. They were
so good at their job, so professional, totally absorbed and dedicated.
If I hadn't been there would they even have remembered I existed? Now,
*that* was scary. 

"It's official," Mommy announced, standing in the doorway. "I can no
longer stand the smell of formaldehyde." 

Daddy looked up from his work. "What happened?" 

"I got nauseous. Honestly thought I was going to throw up in the lab,
all over Agent Arnolds." 

"You okay now?" Daddy got up, moving forward to touch Mommy's forehead
lightly. It was such a total change and yet it wasn't, because even
before his touches had been gentle and careful. Before his actions had
been masked by professionalism. It hadn't been because he loved her,
but rather that them being at work made that how much he did love her
less of an issue.  

"You're a little flushed," Daddy noted, lifting her chin for a moment
to look in her eyes. Then he tugged her over to her desk. That had been
his wedding present to her - her own desk. "Sit down for a while." 

Mommy carefully unbuttoned her jacket, pulling it off before sitting
down, hand to her neck, eyes closed. You couldn't tell that she was
pregnant when she had her jacket on, but it was kinda visible when she
took it off. They didn't want anybody at work to know yet.  

Daddy filled a mug with water and held it out for Mommy. "Have a sip." 

She opened her eyes, gently pushing the mug away. "I'm okay, Mulder." 

"Just making sure." 

She gave him a small smile and took the mug, taking a sip. I watched as
they smiled at each other. It was kinda shy, like the way some of the
kids in my class sometimes looked at each other before making their
best friend writing a note to pass along to ask "Somebody wants to know
if you like Amy..."  
But it was heaps more than that. It was like every hour of their lives
together was there in that single look, like they were thinking about
every touch and every conversation and everything they'd shared. And I
was part of that. 

Did I really appreciate how lucky I was to have them as my parents?
Probably more than most kids did of even the best parents. I could
remember what it had been like before we had them, when it had only
been Duckie and me and Josh. Well, Cate and Roger too, but they'd never
really mattered to us. Duckie had hated them but they had just been
shadows in the background of our lives. We'd had Duckie, who loved us,
but then there was Fox and Dana and it was so exciting to suddenly have
them, and they were all we had after Duckie was gone. They needed us
almost as badly as we needed them, and they loved us almost as fiercely
as we loved them. Sure, life with them wasn't ordinary. My friends
thought my life was weird, thought it must be tough to have to stay
with Grandma so much and to look after a little sister all the time.
But I loved it. They made it easier for me to have lived the strange
life I'd lived because theirs was only stranger, and they understood
what it was like to have so many thoughts in your head that you
couldn't fall asleep. They understood me. I don't think Tay-lah's
parents understood her at all. 
  

     - - - - } - - - - } - - @        t h e   x - f i l e s  

- JACQUELINE POV - 

"Hey baby, how was work with Fox and Dana?" 

Astrid beamed, bouncing. "It was *great*. I worked on thirteen
different cases. *Thirteen*. This one guy reckons he was abducted by
aliens and that they put implants in his toes, under his toenails.
There were some photos of that. It was pretty disgusting but -" 

"How about you go get ready for bed, sweetie?" Dana nudged Astrid. 

"Mommy! It's only -" 

"It's past ten, Astrid. You've had a long day and you've got school
tomorrow, remember?" 

"Do I have to go to school?" She pulled a pouty, pleading face. "Why
can't I come to work with you again? I was really helpful, wasn't I?" 

"Yes, you were very helpful," Dana agreed. "But you still have to go to
school. When you finish school you can go to college and *then*, if you
still want to, you can join the FBI." 
She seemed to only be humouring Astrid, but there was a curious look in
her eye. What did she think about Astrid one day following in their
footsteps? After everything that the job had brought into her life
would she allow, let alone encourage the career choice? 

"But that's *years* away.." 

Dana swatted Astrid's backside. "Bed. Now." 

"Erin's not in bed yet." 

"Erin had a nap earlier on. Don't give me a hard time, Astrid." 

A sharpness was coming into her voice and Astrid heard it. She nodded,
hugging Dana and kissing her cheek goodnight, subdued. "See you in the
morning, Mommy. Bye Duckie." She gave me a quick wave and scampered
from the room.  

Noah excluded, Dana and I were left alone for the first time since I'd
arrived. I'd come to see her, almost bursting with the need to confess,
vent some fear and anger, gripe a little. But that urgency had faded
and I felt a little silly, now, having intruded. It was late. Noah
hadn't liked being woken and was grizzly. I was probably keeping Dana
up... 

"You're here now, so you might as well tell me what's going on." She
was blunt as ever, her piercing gaze on me. 

"Ebony." 

"What about Ebony?" 

"I'm wondering if I did the right thing by leaving her behind with
Graham." I couldn't refer to him as Grae any longer. It was sickening. 

"She wanted to stay with him, didn't she?" 

"I feel responsible for her. I don't know what sort of life he's going
to be able to give her." 

"What can you do about it?" 

"Nothing much, I guess. I ... terrible as it sounds, *I* don't want
her, Dana. But she deserves more than him. I just don't know what I'm
supposed to do about it all. As I said, I feel like it's my
responsibility. I don't want the kid growing up a part of ...the, um
...the project..." I trailed off, distracted. Erin, in pink pajamas,
had run past us into the kitchen to raid the cookie jar, then run back
to the TV, cuddling up in her blanket in her favourite armchair with
the handful of cookies. They were the only ones she'd eat, Dana said.
Lemon, from a bakery downtown. Dana and Fox bought them in the dozens. 

Dana had been watching as I had but made no comment. If Erin was
voluntarily eating there was no way they would want to stop her.  

Watching as Erin slowly munched the cookies - a bite from one, then the
next, then the next - my problems with Graham and Ebony faded from
mind. They weren't real. *This* was real, this little girl I'd help
bring into the world, who had brought us all so much happiness. I loved
her. More than my own child, though I'd never admit it aloud. Dana and
Fox's daughter was of them, so alive, so clever and stubborn and
loveable. Noah was born of a lying scumbag and an overemotional fool. I
loved him because he was mine but for the same reason I didn't want
him, almost hated him. 

Fox appeared in baggy pajama pants and a grey undershirt. He glanced at
me, then Dana, then went to Erin, picking her up, security blanket and
all. "Bedtime, monkey," he announced, sounding half-asleep himself. 
Erin on his hip was dangling her toy monkey by one arm, her hand firmly
grasping its furry plastic one as he brought her over to kiss Dana
goodnight. She had cookie crumbs all over her face and that disoriented
sleepy look. She yawned, then giggled, putting up her other hand to
wave. "Night night." 

I blew her a kiss. "See you later, Erin." 

Fox paused in the doorway, making eye contact with Dana before leaving.
Something passed between them but I didn't catch it. Then Dana got to
the floor, starting to tidy up Erin's Duplo. I joined her, silently
picking up pieces, pulling them apart, tossing them in the big plastic
chest. Amongst the brightly coloured pieces lay a dull silver object. A
knight from a chess set. I picked it up, wondering. 

"Erin steals them," Dana explained, smiling, reaching out a hand for
it. "She loves them." 

"You've got the next Bobby Fisher on your hands." 

"Maybe." We finished tidying and she packed the box away. "Jacqui,
about Graham and Ebony -" 

I held up a hand, shaking my head. "No, forget about it. Those are my
problems, not yours. You've got enough on your plate at the moment.
I'll deal with it myself. I'll be okay." 

She frowned. "I want to help you, Jacqui." 

"I'll be okay," I promised her. I had to stop laying all my problems on
her shoulders. It wasn't fair. 
I stood, picking up Noah's carrier. "You go to bed, see if you can get
a real night's sleep. And call me if you ever want to take some time
out and want somebody to mind the kids." 

I wasn't entirely sure what had led to this sudden turnabout, this
brisk certainty that I wasn't the one with the biggest problems. What I
did know was that somehow this decision to help Dana had not only taken
my mind off my own difficulties, but forced me into some perspective.  

Dana nodded slowly. "Mulder and I are out of town on a case for a
couple of days. When we come back we can talk some more, okay?" 

"Sure," I agreed. 

She hesitated, looking at me seriously. "Graham wouldn't ever hurt
Ebony, would he?" 

"No, never." 

"You're sure?" 

"Yeah." That was the only thing I knew for certain about Graham. I
couldn't trust him to treat me right or even to respect the law, the
restraining order I'd put out against him. But I could trust him with
Ebony. He was the only father she'd ever had and that mattered to him.
She mattered to him, and maybe he even mattered to her. More than I did
or ever had. 

Dana touched my arm lightly. "You'll be okay, Jacqui." 

I nodded. I know. I'm just ...waiting for my life to start. 
  

     - - - - } - - - - } - - @        t h e   x - f i l e s  

- SCULLY POV - 

We'd gotten the case on Friday, but Astrid's careers day had forced us
to put it on hold. We had a meeting scheduled Tuesday afternoon and a
late-night flight to St Paul, Minneapolis, which meant dropping the
kids off at Mom's after dinner.  

I'd barely glanced at the case before leaving and took the flight time
to go over the file again. Mulder had dozens of contacts, I knew.
People who listened and watched, people with contacts, people
themselves in high places. And some of his contacts were simply
newspaper-reading number crunchers, noting anomalies and tracing
trends. It was one such contact who had dangled this supposed x-file in
front of Mulder's nose.  
A town with a three year long lucky streak. A town with a population of
barely a thousand, ordinary small town folk who had in recent months
claimed increasingly large shares of state lotto winnings, whose
football team had for the first time in fifty years won every game of
the season. Individuals who had become undefeated TV game show
champions, coupon collectors winning everything from free liftime
supplies of coffee to laptop computers to holidays in the Bahamas and
even a Ferrari or two. Definately outside the bell curve. 

"So, basically," I remarked as Mulder pulled off the County Highway,
"We're about to visit what should be the happiest community in the
world." 
  

     - - - - } - - - - } - - @        t h e   x - f i l e s  

- MULDER POV - 

She couldn't have been more wrong. From the moment we pulled up outside
the Jenkins Falls sheriff's station the next morning we were in the
world of chaos. There were dozens of people in the cramped offices,
locals of all types, all of them red-faced and impatient, shoving and
swearing and threatening - desk deputies included. We had to ask
several times before we were shown into the sheriff's office and even
then we were granted only a two minute interview. 

"Town's gone mad," he stated shortly. "If you can figure it all out,
you're welcome to the problem. If not, I'd appreciate you gettin' out
of my way. I have work to get done." 

And so, we were on our own. 

Another hour harrassing deputies and we got hold of copies of all
reports that had been filed in the last month. There were hundreds.
Assault, theft, muggings and accusations. Friend against friend,
neighbour against neighbour. Almost all of the names we found
corresponded with names we found on the copies of newspaper clippings
my informant had sent. We spent the morning plotting the addresses of
the biggest winners, heading out to the nearest address. That was where
we ran into trouble. Well, where *I* ran into trouble. 

Pamela O'Shea had won two hundred and fifty thousand dollars in the
lottery six months ago. A local newspaper article featuring her win had
announced her plan to spend a portion of the money redecorating and one
look at her living room told me not only had she done as planned, but
done it with flair. The furniture was all new, stylish without being
dated, expensive but still casual. Prints hung from the walls, framed
posters of old horror movies. There was a wide, flat screen TV with DVD
player, and a cabinet stacked full of DVDs. All the classics. I was
almost drooling. 

Pamela O'Shea herself wasn't young - late-thirties was my guess - but
from the moment she'd opened the door, greeting us with a wide grin,
I'd been amazed by her youthful energy. Her eyes sparkled as she
answered our questions, she was quick to respond and clever with her
words. This was somebody who was *living* her life, I thought with
sudden wistfulness. Somebody who wasn't constantly having to struggle
against pain and hurt.  

"I was just stunned when I won," she remarked, pouring us coffee. "I'd
never won anything before in my life. It was just out of the blue." 

"Were you in the habit of buying lottery tickets?" 

"My grandmother bought one every single week of every year, til she
died. She never won more than a few dollars. Then about six months ago
- it would have been her birthday, which was why I did it - I figured
'why not?' and bought one. I used the same numbers she always did and I
won." 

"They were your grandmother's numbers?" Scully clarified. She looked
bored. I knew why - she couldn't see the x-file here. Not in this
house, anyway.  
She continued impatiently, "And you're sure there wasn't any particular
individual who may have encouraged you to buy the ticket? Somebody who
pushed you into it, wanting you to win?" 

"You think there's a correlation, don't you?" Pamela asked suddenly,
glancing at me shrewdly.  

"Excuse me?" 

"The statistics of it all. Everybody winning everything and the crime
rates lately. I mean, there has to be a connection. Some of my friends
won't speak to me now, out of jealousy. That sort of thing, just
magnified in a lot of cases, beyond dislike - hate. But I don't know
what's behind it, what's starting it all." 

"That's what we're here to find out," I assured her, smiling. 

"It's kinda creepy, really," she confided, smiling sheepishly. "I keep
thinking somebody's going to mug me. It's not like I carry more than a
few dollars around with me but I can't kick the feeling. Everybody
*knows* that I have the money. They know where I live. And sure, I
trust my friends and neighbours, but with everything that's going on
I'm not sure if I should..." 

"I'd recommend a good security system," I said dryly. "Or a nasty
looking dog." 

She laughed. "It's a tough choice. Maybe I'll get both." 

I grinned and thanked her as she showed us out. Scully had gone out
ahead of me and was pacing beside the car. I realised I was in trouble
when I saw her face. Lips pressed tightly together, frowning, eyes
hard, arms crossed. She was unimpressed. 
"What?" I demanded, prepared for the angry lecture. But she shook her
head, jaw set, and climbed into the car. 

I climbed in the other side and buckled myself in before turning to
look at her. "Scully..." 

"I would have thought by now you were a better judge of what is and is
not appropriate on the job," she snapped.  

"What?!" 

"If you're going to flirt with another woman, Mulder, I'd prefer not to
have to sit there and watch!" 

"I wasn't flirting!" I protested. 

She put a hand up. I don't want to hear it. 

"Scully..." No response. She turned her head away to look out the
window, doing her seatbelt up with shaking fingers. "Listen, I'm sorry.
I wasn't trying to flirt with her, I swear. I -" 

A sob. She was covering her face with her hands, resting against her
car window. Oh - 
"Scully..." 

She pulled her hands away and looked at me. "Mulder, I'm tired, my
hormones are just completely out of whack... I just need you to go easy
on me for the moment, okay? I'm just *tired*..." Another sob. She shook
her head helplessly.  

I reached out a hand, touching her shoulder lightly. She slumped down,
hand across her eyes.  

"I'll take you back to the motel, let you have a rest," I said quietly.
But she drew herself upright, drying her eyes.  

"No. I'll be fine. We should have some lunch and then... um... I think
we should split up for the afternoon. Just get some space from each
other." 

I agreed reluctantly, understanding her motives for the suggestion but
not wanting to be separated from her. She was just fragile, or as
fragile as Dana Scully would ever allow herself to be. She was anxious
about the pregnancy, afraid for Erin, trying to give Josh and Astrid
equal time, trying to be there for Jacqueline and still have time for
me and energy for work. I was trying to do all those things too, but
somehow her burden always ended up bigger than mine. Maybe, I thought,
because she was a bigger person than I was. She always had been, and
always would. 

     - - - - } - - - - } - - @        t h e   x - f i l e s  

- SCULLY POV - 

We lunched together then picked up a second rental car and went our
separate ways, taking half a list of people to interview each. It was a
relief to be away from Mulder, to feel I had my space and my thoughts
entirely to myself for once. I actually waited for him to drive off and
just sat in the car, eyes closed, enjoying the silence and stillness.  

We were trying to find *links*, so Mulder and I had agreed. But in a
small town there were links everywhere. Everybody was somebody else's
uncle or dentist or employer. Johnny C was in the same class at school
as Johnny M, their older sisters attended the same ballet school,
Johnny C's aunt was friends with Johnny M's grandmother. It was a
tangled web. 

I gave up halfway down my list, leaving the grocery store - recently
bought out by a young couple after an inheritance - and following the
sidewalk, past the various storefronts. It was getting late and some of
the stores were closed. I paused in front of one, a curio shop.
'Wishful Thinking' it was called. The front windows were filled with
antique-y sort of objects, but there was one in particular that caught
my attention. It was a crystal, a few inches long but slender. I gazed
at it, unable to tear my eyes away. Missy had had one just like it.
Used to dangle it over my head and say it was focusing my spirit or
something. She had always said that crystals had healing powers. 

I pushed open the door, sniffing the curious musky air. It was well
lit, brighter than outside, and I took a few moments to adjust to the
light. A big man, in his sixties or even seventies, maybe, was sitting
on a stool behind the counter. I gave him a brief smile in greeting and
he nodded, rocking back and forth on the stool. His hair was closely
cropped and he was cleanshaven, and in his hands he held a piece of
driftwood and a knife. He was carving something - a ship, I thought.
Looking around, I saw dozens of tiny, intricate carvings displayed in
cases. Many of them were ships but there were animals too, and human
figures. Josh would love this place, I thought. 

I moved over to the window to get a better view of the crystal. It was
tied on a long, slim pink velvet ribbon and sparkled, refracting the
light.  

Could a simple piece of rock have healing powers? Science said no,
nothing beyond natural magnetics. My upbringing said no, don't even try
it. Mom had hated Missy's New Age beliefs. Missy had always enjoyed
treading fine lines - that sort of experimentation was just another way
of 'living', as she saw it. She genuinely believed in the goodness and
power of these things, embraced the alternative. I didn't. But maybe...
What *if* that piece of rock could help heal Erin? I didn't believe
that it could cure her leukemia, but if it could help take away some of
her pain, if it could help her even just a little when the drugs
wouldn't, surely it was worth it? 

"You're interested in the crystal," the store owner observed. 

"My sister had one just like it," I admitted. He was standing beside me
and I saw something I hadn't before - a tattoo on his upper arm. 'I
left MY heart in San Diego' it read. Why did that stir memories from my
past? 

"You were in the navy?" I asked suddenly, not really knowing what
compelled me. 

"Sure. For forty-six years." He looked at me curiously. "How did you
know?" 

"It was just a guess," I confessed. 

"Damn good guess." He smiled. "I was out of San Diego most of my life."

"My father was in the navy," I explained. "We lived in San Diego when I
was young. My brother is in the navy and stationed there now." 

"Family tradition, eh?" 

"I suppose so." 

He gestured to the display case. "Did you want to hold the crystal?" 

I hesitated. "I don't know. I really -" 

"No pressure. I don't force people into buying. I just let this town
move at its own leisure." 

He drew a keychain out of his pocket, picked a key and noiselessly slid
it into the lock, swinging the glass back. He was reaching in to pick
up the crystal when my phone rang. I fumbled for it, muttering an
apology and taking a step back. 

"Scully." 

"It's me. We've got an emergency here." 

"Where?" 

"The motel. Well, next door. The manager's son and a friend were
playing in the car scrapyard next door and a truck rolled off its
blocks, crushing them both. Ambulance is on its way but it looks bad." 

"I'll be right there," I promised. I pocketed the phone, turning to
face the storekeeper who stood there, crystal sitting in one palm.  

"I'm sorry, I have to go," I said hurriedly.  

He nodded, waving a hand. "By all means. I'll see you later, Starbuck."

I stopped short, staring at his back as he returned the crystal to the
window. Had he really just called me that? How did he know that? Maybe
I'd just imagined it. But, still... God. I didn't want a repeat of that
Boggs incident. 
I hesitated for a fraction of a second more and then fumbled with the
door, breathing in the light evening air. I hadn't realised how dense
it had been in the store.  

My car was parked further down the street, around the corner, and I
picked up my pace, glancing at my watch. If the situation was as
serious as it had sounded every second could mean life or death. 
  

The ambulance reached there just as I did. One boy's chest had been
crushed and it looked as if he had been killed instantaneously. The
woman who had greeted us cheerfully the night before when we booked in
was now crumpled beside her dead son, weeping, pushing away the
paramedic who uselessly tried to check for a pulse. People were crowded
around the other boy and I followed the paramedics as they pushed
through to him. He was pinned under the edge of the truck and I guessed
that his legs had been crushed, maybe his pelvis. He was out cold but
still breathing. Mulder was holding back the morbidly curious crowd. A
man in mechanics overalls was cradling the boy's head, his hands
covered in blood. Oh God... 

I kneeled down beside the paramedics. "I'm a doctor. Can I help?" 
  

     - - - - } - - - - } - - @        t h e   x - f i l e s  

-  JACQUELINE POV - 

I picked the kids up from school on Wednesday. Astrid looked alarmed
when she saw me, and I was quick to reassure her that her grandmother
and Erin were fine, that I'd just come to take the two of them out
somewhere. My afternoon had been free and I'd had such a craving for
their company, for some lighthearted childish fun. Not that that was
exactly how the afternoon ended up. 
We got icecreams and sat in the park to eat them. Astrid wanted to take
Noah down the slide but I managed to talk her out of it, pointing out
how young he still was. In many ways I'd expected them to treat Noah as
they did Erin, but the relationship was entirely different. They would
hold him, entertain him, even change his diapers, but they didn't love
him. What scared me was the thought that maybe I was the same.  

After the park we headed off to the museum to see the dinosaur display.
It was about the fiftieth time Josh had been there and he greeted the
enormous fossils like old friends. Astrid and I did the tour out of
habit, then found ourselves a bench to sit and wait for Josh.  

"Joshie thinks you're lonely," Astrid announced abruptly. She looked up
at me. "Are you?" 

"A little," I confessed.  

"Do you miss Graham?" 

I shook my head. Absolutely not.  

"Not at all?" 

"I miss having somebody who loves me." 

She nodded, feet swinging, looking at the ground. "Grandma loves us,"
she said finally, "but I miss Mommy and Daddy when they're away. Cos I
know they're not thinking about us when they're working." 

"That's not true, Astrid." 

"Yes, it is. I was at work with them - I saw them. They get all
absorbed in what they're doing. They switch us off." 

"That doesn't mean they don't love you." 

She nodded, frowning. "I know. It just doesn't make you feel very good
inside to know that." She sounded tearful. 

I patted her lightly on the head, not sure how to comfort her. She
hugged around my waist, burrowing against me.  
"It's just that when they're home they're not thinking about us,
either. They're thinking about Erin or the baby or even you and your
problems. And I *know* it's right that they think about Erin first but
I hate that the only time they ever do think about us is because they
feel it's some sort of obligation. I don't want to be a duty." 

"Oh, baby..." I hugged her against me helplessly. "Dana and Fox have a
lot to juggle. I know that's not an excuse, and I know you know how
hard it is for them. But they're not getting much time for themselves,
either." 

"They've got time for themselves, now," she objected. "That's why they
go away on so many out of town cases, so that they can have time for
just the two of them." 

"That's not why they do that, Astrid." 

"I know the real reason is cos they have to for work, but they like
going away. They like getting the time to themselves so they can be
like they were before we all came along." 

"That's not true -" I protested again, but she interrupted me fiercely.

"It is! It is..." 

"Dana and Fox love you, Astrid." 

She was crying now, face buried in my side. "That's not enough." 

     - - - - } - - - - } - - @        t h e   x - f i l e s  

- MULDER POV - 

It was almost nine when Scully's cab dropped her back at the motel. The
nearest emergency room was half an hour away and she rode there with
them in the ambulance, staying on to assist because half the ER staff
were on strike. 

She walked in the door, looking bone tired. She shrugged her trenchcoat
off, literally letting it fall to the floor, then her jacket, and shoes
kicked off.  

"Did you manage to save him?" I asked quietly. 

She nodded. "For now, anyway. They had to amputate his left leg in
surgery, above the knee. Doesn't look good for the right one. He's
lucky his pelvis wasn't shattered." 

"I don't think that kid is exactly considering himself lucky tonight,"
I responded.  

She came over to the bed, dragging her feet. She threw herself down on
the bed and lay limply, as if she didn't have the energy even to move. 

"You look terrible," I teased gently, reaching out to run a hand
through her hair. "Why don't you take a shower and then get to bed?" 

A groan that I thought was maybe dissent. I climbed up off the bed,
picking her up under the armpits from behind. "A bath. How's that
sound?" 

She struggled to her feet. "Don't baby me.." She sounded just like
Astrid, tired and grumpy. 

She insisted on having a shower and I perched on the edge of the tub,
talking to her over the hissing of the water, telling her what I'd
discovered during the evening. I'd gone through the sheriff's office's
records for the last month and discovered something - the afternoon's
tragedy hadn't been the first child related incident. No less than
fifty children from the town had died during the last two and a half
years - whether that be by accident, disease or abuse. There was
nothing suspicious or unusual about the deaths themselves - only the
astronomical number. These statistics were way out of control.  
But it didn't end there. I'd rung the local ob-gyn and discovered that
the number of expectant mothers had been declining at an accelerating
rate over the past few years. A call to the local pediatrician revealed
the number of children visiting for regular immunisation had also
dramatically fallen. People divorced, and the parent with custody took
the child away. Children were dying, far too many. More and more
couples were discovering themselves to be infertile. 
"If it keeps going at this rate I reckon I'll be out of business in
five years," the ob-gyn had grimly declared. 

Scully stuck her head out the shower door and looked at me tiredly.
"You're saying this is some sort of evil force that's robbing the town
of its future." 

I grinned. "I couldn't have said it better myself." 

She glared at me, withdrawing her head again to cut the water, dragging
a towel around herself and stepping out onto the floormat. "Go away,
Mulder." 
  

     - - - - } - - - - } - - @        t h e   x - f i l e s  

- SCULLY POV - 

I slept and slept and slept. When I woke in the morning I felt
physically improved but couldn't shake an almost overwhelming sense of
anxiety. I told myself I was just being paranoid, that I was uptight
about things. It was true. I was as uptight as I'd ever been. I was
starting to think, too, that now had been a bad time to accept an out
of town case.  

We visited the local baptist church and met with a young reverend,
Daniel Menzies. He was quick to agree with us about an evil presence in
town and offer his help in any possible way but lacked any real
information. 

"I can't pinpoint it, trace it back to any one person," he confessed.
"But I can feel it. It's in the air we're breathing, polluting our
society, bringing these events into fruition." 

"These 'events'?" 

"The children. So many tragic deaths. It's not natural. The Baker boy
and Alicia Fitzgerald and those two boys yesterday - and that's only in
the last month or two. And of course there's little Eddie Bevans, who
was diagnosed a week ago with leukemia. And Sarah..." 

"Sarah?" 

He drew an unsteady breath. "My daughter. She's nine. She was diagnosed
with a brain tumour three weeks ago." 

"And you think some evil force in the town is causing these tragedies?"

"I don't know what to think. Many in my congregation think it's the
devil at work, but I can't be sure. I've spent hours discussing it with
people. There's a man - you might want to talk to him about it. He has
a great theological background. He and I have been struggling through
this together, trying to find answers." 

"What's his name?" 

"Lee Wasnik. He runs the store in Main Street - 'Wishful Thinking'.
He's a member of my church; attends regularly." 

"I think I met him, yesterday," I remembered quietly. "A big man,
ex-sailor." 

Reverend Menzies shook his head. "No. Lee is shorter than me. Used to
be an accountant in the city. Maybe he's hired help. Though he said
himself that he doesn't get too much business."  
He shrugged and reverted to his former theme. "My wife suspects a coven
of witches who meet in the town. She's absolutely certain that they're
responsible - she's even tried several times to get the sheriff to do
something. Nobody listens, of course. She hasn't got a shred of proof."

"You yourself don't suspect them?" 

The reverend hesitated before shaking his head. "I don't *think* so,"
he said cautiously. "I don't condone the practicising of witchcraft at
all, of course, but I just don't think this is coming from them. I know
some of the women. They're just ordinary folk dabbling in something
mystical. It certainly has potential for danger but I honestly don't
think they'd harm children." 

"But it's possible that they could have called up some sort of dark
force and been unable to contain it?" 

"Possible, certainly." 
  

We thanked him and headed to the other side of town to the address the
reverend had given us for Marcie McDowell, practising witch. She was,
as the reverend had said, ordinary folk. A stout woman with blonde hair
and dark roots and too much eye makeup, she denied all responsibility,
pointing out that she and several of her friends had felt the same
misfortunes and suffered from the luckiness of others. They'd been
passed over for promotions won by others, seen marriages break down and
friendships crack because of financial differences, because one friend
had won a new car or won yet another vacation. The local politicians
were being bought out, there was inequality everywhere. The police were
struggling simply to keep the inflow of paperwork under control. Marcie
McDowell was angry that the church was blaming her. 

"Somebody's trying to destroy the town," she said heatedly, "but it's
not us." 
  

The hospital was almost an hour round trip out of our way but I wanted
to check on Marc Sykes, the little boy who had been trapped under the
trailer. He was in the ICU and still listed as critical condition.
Mulder hung back as I greeted his mother, tried to gently draw some
answers out of her about her son. Whatever had happened to him had
somehow been caused by whatever it was that had caused so many other
deaths and tragedies. 
"I told him not to play in the scrap yard," Shelly Sykes said
tearfully. "But he loves it so much there. He and Jack play for hours
and hours... oh God. This isn't happening..." She tugged at a pendant
hanging around her neck. It was a silver four leaf clover, still shiny.
It caught the light and flashed it in my eyes. Another image flashed in
my mind. 

"Where did you get that?" I asked quietly, indicating the necklace. 

She sniffled, fingering it. "That store in Main Street, next to the
bakery. Little junk shop, really, but I liked it. It's supposed to
bring good luck - and it was, too. I won three thousand dollars in the
lottery. But now..." 

Something stirred in the back of my mind. I thanked her and quietly
left. I felt drained and just let myself block out all thoughts on the
drive back, almost falling asleep against the window. I didn't want to
try and sort the pieces out quite yet. I didn't have the energy to do
it properly.  

We returned not to our motel but to the reverend's house. His wife was
still out but his daughter was now home, a shy girl in pajamas with
painfully familiar wispy hair, hugging a new-looking bear. There was
something in her face that spoke of a recent hospital visit. 

We were discussing the case in detail with the reverend and I led the
girl away, not wanting her exposed to the frightening facts. She
climbed back into bed obediently, explaining that she'd been in the
hospital for radiation treatments. Her mom had brought her home and put
her to bed, then left again for an appointment. 
"We won a holiday," the little girl admitted. "But we can't go on it,
cos I have to go to the hospital. Mommy went to see the people and find
out if maybe they can wait a little longer, til my cancer goes away." 

"You think your cancer will go away soon?" 

She shrugged, biting her lip. "I hope so." 

"My little girl has cancer," I admitted to her. "She has leukemia." 

"How old is she?" 

"She's smaller than you. She's only one and a half. Almost two." 

"Are they giving her chemo?" 

"Yeah, they are." 

"What does she think of that?" 

"She hates it." 

"I hate it too. I hate the radiation as well. It's scary." 

"I know. It scared me too." 

"You had to have it?" 

"I had a brain tumour." It still wasn't easy to say it, now.  

"And they cured you?" 

"Yeah." Well, kinda. "I'm in remission, now." 

"You're lucky." I didn't know how to respond to that and she went on
quickly, "Do you have any other kids?" 

"I have a daughter your age, and a son, who's six." 

"What are their names?" 

"Astrid and Josh." 

"What about your littler girl?" 

"Her name is Erin." 

She nodded and shyly extended a hand. "My name is Sarah Elizabeth." 

I smiled, gently shaking the offered hand. "Nice to meet you, Sarah
Elizabeth. My name is Dana." 

She held out the bear she'd been hugging. "This is Fatso." 

"Fatso, huh?" I took the bear, holding it up for inspection. A funny
odour drifted toward me and I held the bear closer, sniffing it. It
wasn't the smell of new plastic you'd associate with a toystore or even
a hospital smell. It was something different, sweet but at the same
time sickly. I recognised it from somewhere, but where? 

"One of Mommy's friends gave it to me for my birthday," she explained,
adding necessarily, "Third of December." 

"What was her name?" 

Sarah frowned, then shrugged. "I think Mommy said her name was Leigh or
something. I'm not sure." 

"You don't know her?" 

"Nope. I think Mommy said she worked on Main Street but I've never met
her." 

And it came to me, the origin of the odour. A crystal on a velvet
ribbon. Carved wood. The curio shop. Wishful Thinking.  
  

     - - - - } - - - - } - - @        t h e   x - f i l e s  

- MULDER POV - 

"Mulder, can I talk to you for a moment?" 

I saw her expression and nodded, drawing her aside. The reverend
excused himself and only when he'd left did she speak. "There's a
shop... Wishful Thinking." 

"What about it?" 

"The reverend's daughter gets a bear from the store - the family wins a
holiday and then discover their daughter has a brain tumour. Shellie
Sykes buys a necklace, wins three thousand dollars, and her son almost
dies. I'm sure if we look at every case individually we'll see the same
thing happening. They buy something, they get lucky financially or
materially, then they lose something really important." 

I frowned. "But what if that doesn't prove to be the case? It's a small
town, Scully. Everybody is linked to everybody. It's not entirely
beyond the realms of belief that two of our 'victims' have frequented a
store on Main Street." 

She stared at me. "Okay, then what have you got?" 

I tugged her over to the dining room table. "We've traced back and
discovered that this same 'trick' has been played on different towns
for fifty years. A small town, Mt Boston, in Connecticut, destroyed
itself fifteen years ago in the same way this town is self-destructing.
People were rioting in the streets, half the town was burnt down.
Several hundred people were arrested and charged, half a dozen
townspeople ended up institutionalised. A woman was killed in the
rioting, several dozen others injured. Of those prosecuted there were
very few children and many couples, finding themselves barren and
having criminal records were ineligible for adoption." 

She sensed it coming. "And?" 

"*And*, Marcie McDowell's mother was practisicing witchcraft in Mt
Boston at the time." 

"So you think Marcie McDowell is responsible for this?" 

"The reverend agrees with me." 

I hesitated. "I think you're wrong." 

"You think it's the store?" 

"I do." 

I inclined my head. "Okay. I'll head over and bring Ms McDowell in for
questioning, you go see what you can dig up on this Lee Wasnik and if
you can find any more links to Wishful Thinking." 
I was surprised by our switch of roles - usually I would be the one
making those sorts of links, and Scully doing the research and starting
with a more obvious solution. It was strangely unsettling, to lose that
constant. *But*, I reminded myself, we were still working together, and
we still had the x-files. Those were constants to hang on to. 

Scully and I were heading out to the car when Daniel came running out
of the house, calling for Scully. We ran inside to find his daughter on
her bedroom floor, fitting. 

"Call for an ambulance," Scully instructed quietly, kneeling beside the
girl and checking her vitals. She took as charge just as gracefully and
confidently as always, but I could see the strain on her face. She'd
befriended this little girl. She knew what it was like to have cancer
herself, and she knew what it was like to be a parent in this
situation.   

The seizure passed and the little girl, disoriented, began to cry.
Scully stepped back and let the reverend comfort his daughter. Scully
and I stood side by side against the wall, watching, understanding how
close to home this hit. It was unnerving watching this father comfort
his sick little girl. Was I so vulnerable, so naked in that same
situation? Could every emotion that crossed my face be seen just as
easily as it was on Daniel's? 

The ambulance took twenty minutes to arrive and Mrs Menzies arrived
home in time to go to the hospital with her daughter, leaving her
husband to follow them in his own car.  

"I'll be right behind you," he promised grimly. 
We stood back as he locked his house up with trembling fingers and
watched as he took off down the road.  

Scully touched my sleeve. "Can we hold off talking to Marcia McDowell
until we've looked into this store further?" 

I nodded, thinking of the teddy bear the little girl had been
clutching. And I knew that Scully was right. The question was, why
hadn't I seen it? 

     - - - - } - - - - } - - @        t h e   x - f i l e s  

- SCULLY POV - 

We went back to the motel and started making calls. Almost every person
on our list who had won big and then lost bigger had at some time
during the past few years visited Wishful Thinking to buy an object of
luck, joy, comfort or wisdom. The date of the first big win was less
than a week after Lee Wasnik had signed the lease on the store and
moved in, bringing with him box upon box of these seemingly innocent
objects. But what held the power? The objects themselves? Or the man
who sold them? And who *was* that man? 

We searched every available database but could find no legal records of
Lee Wasnik. However, a search of the newspaper archives through an
intranet of local papers all over the country came up with several
different references, going back sixty years. Together we collected
half a dozen different articles. A new store in Texas opened by a young
man named Lee Wasnik, selling odd bits. A different store, two years
later, opened by a middle aged woman named Lee Wasnik. Then four years
after that, the older man I'd met in Wishful Thinking, also named in
the caption as Lee Wasnik. What the hell was going on? 

"This is the church-going theological Lee Wasnik?" Mulder asked
sardonically. "He had the reverend fooled." 

"Even the devil knows the scriptures. Who is this guy, Mulder?" 

Was Lee Wasnik the devil in human form? One of Satan's dark angels,
walking on earth? Was he real? Human or not? It was impossible to
comprehend or catalogue. "How do we catch him?" 

"I have no idea," Mulder admitted. He seemed preoccupied and I had a
feeling it wasn't the issue at hand.  

"What is it, Mulder?" 

He roused himself. "You're right." 

"And?" 

"And... You caught the connection. I didn't even see it. What if I
can't do this any more, Scully?" 

"Do the job, you mean?" 

He nodded, frowning. 

"You didn't even see the hints, Mulder. For me it was just a case of
talking to the right people at the right time. If you'd been there you
would have caught it too." 

"Maybe." 

Please don't doubt yourself, Mulder, I prayed silently. Please don't...

"How about we go bring this Lee Wasnik in for questioning?" I suggested
gently. "Whoever he or she really is." 

He nodded, distracted. "Sure." 

I reached out to touch his shoulder. "You're not slipping, Mulder," I
promised him, needing him to believe me. I didn't have enough energy to
keep encouraging him.  

He picked up my hand, bringing it to his lips with a wry smile. Thank
you. 

     - - - - } - - - - } - - @        t h e   x - f i l e s  

- MULDER POV - 

We were on our way to the Main Street store when Scully's celphone
rang. It was Margaret; Erin wasn't eating and didn't seem well. A
reaction to the last chemo session, maybe.  

"I think we should go home," Scully announced, eyes downcast as she
pocketed the phone. She looked up and was frowning. Her eyes were
distant and troubled. 

"Let's wait and see if they think it's serious or not, huh?" 

"Of course it's serious," she answered me tightly. She was getting
tired and I wasn't up to scratch. She always distanced herself from me
when stressed and depressed, when her guard went up. 

"We'll just wait until we hear what the doc says, okay?" 

She agreed reluctantly and we pulled up outside the store. We didn't
have a warrant but we didn't need one anyway - the store was deserted,
locked up, the 'closed' sign in the window. 

We were driving back down Main Street when it became clear that
something was happening downtown. Stores were suddenly closing,
shopkeepers hurrying out and down the road. 

"What's going on?" Scully murmured, looking a little creeped out. 

"Only one way to find out," I decided, doing a u-turn and following
everybody downtown. 

A house was on fire. Not just any house, but Marcie McDowell's. She
stood outside, clutching a young daughter by her side, watching as her
house went up. We watched from a distance as the local firecrew battled
the flames, trying to stop the wind from spreading the fire. The crowd
of agog onlookers was enorous and growing, but after about fifteen
minutes the crowd began to drift away. Not back to their own jobs or
homes, but purposefully as they had toward the fire. They were, we soon
discovered, following a deputy's squad car as it squealed off. 

Again, we followed, this time to find that the windows of baptist
church had been smashed, some people still hurling stones at the
remaining stained glass panes as the deputies tried to drag them away.
Then people were attacking the deputies and their car, while others
still tried to destroy the church. Managing to free themselves, the
deputies ran to the squad car, locking themselves in as they called for
backup. Things had very quickly become too much for the two of them to
handle.  

"This is crazy," Scully commented hollowly, watching as men started
attacking each other. We instinctively moved closer to each other and
stepped back, though we were still several yards from the nearest of
the protestors. We had firepower but to involve ourselves was likely to
cause more harm than good. Besides, I didn't want Scully in the middle
of a riot. I didn't want either of us there, but not Scully, not right
then. We had to keep this baby protected. We could do that much. 

Somebody produced a sagging cardboard box of old Fourth of July
firecrackers and was launching them in all directions. There didn't
seem to be any specific division, side against side - they were simply
attacking each other, unleasing all that anger and jealousy and spite
born out of the inequality of the town, manifested as near-insanity.  

"People are going to start getting hurt," Scully warned. But we stood
back, helpless. This wasn't our battle and if we got in the way it
would only make things worse. 

"I want to find Daniel Menzies," she said suddenly. Or, rather, yelled
over the roar of the fighting and destruction. 

He'd said that he was going to the hospital with his daughter, but we
both knew he hadn't. It was no coincidence that this fire had started
directly after he 'discovered' Marcie McDowell's guilt. 

We climbed back into the car, taking back streets to get to the
reverend's house. What we saw as we drove through the quiet
neighbourhood streets was shocking. It was as if a plague of greed and
anger had struck this one town and everyone in it. No longer were
neighbours simply shouting at each other over the back fence - now they
were brandishing weapons and vandalising and destroying each others'
houses and gardens and cars. It was choas. It was insanity. Even if we
had decided to intervene and stop it, where would we have begun? 
  

     - - - - } - - - - } - - @        t h e   x - f i l e s  

- SCULLY POV - 

The reverend wasn't home, but somebody had been here. The front door
was wide open and the back verandah was on fire, burning hot, crackling
loudly. We grabbed blankets, shaking dog fur off them, and trying to
beat the fire out. We managed to get the verandah out but by then it
had spread to a long stretch of brush and the smoke was starting to
choke us. I felt a searing pain in my cheek and took some stumbling
steps back, away from the heat of the fire and the smoke. A flying
ember had hit my face and it stung like hell. I cursed loudly. 

Mulder, coughing, moved out of the smoke. "This is why I joined the
FBI, not the Fire Department," he quipped, coughing again. He reached
up to touch the hand I held against my face. "Are you hurt?" 

"I think I got burnt." I eased the hand away and he winced.  

"That doesn't look good. I think we should get you to the hospital to
get checked out." 

Tired, my whole face stinging, my lungs burning, my head aching, I
could only agree. 

     - - - - } - - - - } - - @        t h e   x - f i l e s  

- MULDER POV - 

She was sitting on the edge of the bed in the exam room, feet swinging
back and forth, as the physician's assistant cleaned up the burn. I was
right - it was quite a bad one, though not too large. She might end up
with a scar, but at most a tiny one.  

"I can add it to the collection," was Scully's tight response. She
needed a hug. I could see it clear as day. As soon as we get out of
here, I promised silently. 

My phone rang and I excused myself, guessing that it might be Skinner
wanting to know where we were. Would I have a story to tell him... But
it was Astrid. She was crying. 

I returned to the exam room, sobered. Scully jumped off the bed and
came to meet me at the door, buttoning up her jacket again, a patch of
white bandage on her cheek. Her fingers stopped still when she saw my
face.  

"What is it?" 

I grimaced, hating to have to deliver the news, full of empathy for
Astrid who had taken on the responsibility of telling us. "Erin has
relapsed." 
  

     - - - - } - - - - } - - @        t h e   x - f i l e s  

- SCULLY POV - 

We'd somehow left Erin's monkey at home when we sent the kids to Mom's.
We stopped by home only to drop off our overnight bags and pick up the
monkey, in tense silence almost the entire way. It wasn't just
disappointment driving us, it was a resurgence of fear, terror that she
might actually die. The remission had been a promise, if a false one,
that she would survive. Now all those horrible darkest thoughts were
coming back. If she'd relapsed then she could be worse than she had
been originally. Maybe this time we wouldn't be so lucky. 

She looked terrible. Colourless, moving sluggishly, sucking listlessly
away at a pacifier. Despite so many vows to avoid them we'd taken them
as a last resort after she'd started to cry all through the night
several weeks after remission. We couldn't be there for her every
second of the day. A pacifier to suck on comforted her and gave us some
much-needed sleep.  

There was just such an overwhelming feeling of disappointment among us
as we greeted the kids and Mom at the hospital. Disappointment and that
panicky fear. We'd had troubles aplenty over the past few months, the
results of such an aggressive outpatient course of treatment, but as
bad as things had gotten we'd still been in remission, on the road to
recovery. Now we were back at square one. 

After not seeing us for days the kids were clingy but we were both
tired and needed space from them. Right then Erin had to come first. So
we sent the kids back with Mom to her place and just sat in Erin's
room, waiting for ourselves to catch up.  

Erin's oncologist, Dr Carson, was checking her over. She hated
checkups, hated being touched by doctors and even the nurses despite
their efforts to win her over. They'd even given her a toy stethescope.
She'd only let me do checkups at home if she then got to reciprocate,
checking me over, listening to my heartbeat and making me stick out my
tongue and say 'Ah'. Maybe she would be the doctor of the family.  

"Deeeeeeeee!" Erin was squealing, crying again.  

Mulder moved closer, letting her grip his hand. "Daddy's here, monkey.
Daddy and Mommy and Monkey and Monkey's monkey. We're all here." 
  

     - - - - } - - - - } - - @        t h e   x - f i l e s  

- ASTRID POV - 

Mommy and Daddy barely said hi to us before sending us home with
Grandma. I was angry at them that they didn't care. I wanted to scream
at them that I hated them, that they were stupid and couldn't they see
that we felt really bad about this too? But Joshie squeezed my hand.
Don't do that, I could hear him say in my head. They're hurting enough.

So we went home with Grandma. With Erin in the hospital there wasn't
really much to do. Josh went into his room and shut the door. Writing
about it all, I guessed. I hated that he could write about it, that he
had a release and I didn't. What was I supposed to *do*? 

Grandma was in the kitchen making dinner but I didn't want to talk to
her. I wanted Erin to cuddle. I wanted Mommy or Daddy so that I could
yell at them and then cry in their arms. I wanted even Duckie, who knew
what it was like to be lonely and feel like everybody was against you.
I wanted to cry. So I did. I closed my bedroom door, not looking at the
crib or Erin's things on the floor, and crawled into my bed and let
myself cry, and that only made me feel worse, not better, because there
was nobody to comfort me. Why was God being so horrible to me, making
everything go wrong? Erin was sick again and Tay-lah was gone and Mommy
and Daddy barely knew Josh and I existed and I was getting so far
behind with school because of everything. Stupid God. 
  

"Astrid?" 

I brushed the wet, sticky tears away with the bedsheet and looked up at
Josh. "What?" 

He was frowning and looked kinda near-tears himself. "I need to talk to
you." 

I pushed back the covers and sat up on the bed, hugging my knees.
Joshie came closer, standing at the end of the bed, touching the
bedpost, rocking back and forth on his feet. 

"I keep hearing a voice," he admitted, barely a whisper. "In my head. I
don't know if it's the voice of God ... a good voice or a bad voice or
if I'm going crazy..." 

I knew why he had come to me but I wished he hadn't. I didn't know what
I was sposed to do about it. It scared me. "You've gotta tell Mom and
Dad," I said, and once I'd said it I knew that was right. But he shook
his head. 

"I don't want to be just another x-file," he said quietly. "You can't
tell them. Promise?" 

"But they should know, Joshie." 

He shook his head, starting to cry. "No. You can't tell them. I don't
want them to know." 

I nodded. "I won't tell. I promise." 
  

Grandma called us for dinner but neither of us were really hungry.
Joshie went back upstairs and I got left talking to Grandma. I love
Grandma heaps, but I didn't want to talk to her right then. I wanted
Mommy and Daddy. But they weren't there. 

I watched some TV til Grandma told me to go get ready for bed. She came
up to tuck me in and even offered to read me a bedtime story, but I
told her I was too sleepy so she left. And I lay there, awake in the
dark. God, please help Erin get better. God, please bring Mommy and
Daddy home. Please make them know how much we need them. Please make
them come home and give me a hug and tell me how sorry they are they
were away, how much they missed me and Josh and Erin, that they thought
of us all the time like we thought of them. Please, God, bring Mommy
and Daddy back home... 
  

"Astrid!" I woke up when Joshie hissed in my ear. He was shaking me.
"They're home." 

His face was white, though maybe it was the moonlight. He hadn't been
asleep, I could tell. Josh never slept these days. I didn't know how he
managed it.  
I looked at the radio clock - it was just past two am. And that scared
me. Joshie's urgency scared me. Something was wrong. What if Erin had
died? Oh please, please, *please* God. Please let Erin be okay. Please
God... 

We were both in pajamas and it was snow outside but we ran down to meet
Mommy and Daddy. I felt all funny and panicky inside, like I had when
Daddy got shot or when Mommy was possessed. They didn't have Erin with
them. They looked tired as they climbed out of the car. Mommy's cheek
was all bandaged still and you could see her growing stomach because
her jacket was undone. Daddy kept running his hands through his hair
and Mommy's lips were pressed together tightly. 

This is bad, bad, bad, bad, bad... I heard Joshie thinking as we stood
at the top of the steps. Bad, bad feeling.  
Daddy came up to us while Mommy locked the car. "Hey, what are you guys
doing up?" 

We heard you drive up, I tried to answer, but instead I burst out with,
"Is Erin dead?" 

Daddy smiled sadly, crouching down, reaching out to touch my cheek.
"She's fine, kiddo. They've got to keep her in the hospital for a
couple of days and start the chemo protocol from the beginning." 

"But you came back?" 

He smiled again. "We know you're strong, but we just thought you guys
must need us too." 

We *do*, I wanted to scream at him angrily, but I was only grateful,
relieved that God hadn't taken Erin away and that they were thinking
about us after all, that they knew we needed them. 
Daddy put his arms around Josh and I and I hugged him tightly, starting
to cry again. Mommy held Josh and Daddy held me, and they carried us up
in to the house. It was like things used to be, before Erin came along,
before things got so hard. 

     - - - - } - - - - } - - @        t h e   x - f i l e s  

- MULDER POV - 

We all slept in Astrid's double bed. Scully and I hadn't brought a
change of clothes so we slept stripped down to underwear, she wearing
my under t-shirt, lying with her head on my chest as I stroked her
hair. Josh was curled up on one side of us, Astrid on the other. It was
a tight squeeze but was comforting. It was necessary. We'd left the
kids out again and paid the price.  

We slept in til late. Astrid was up when I woke but Scully and Josh
were still fast asleep. Some time during the night he'd ended up in her
arms. I gazed at them, vaguely jealous of Josh, but relieved that he
had at least gotten to sleep. I could only hope that his dreams were
more pleasant than mine had been.   

I could still hear all the hospital noises, still smell the hospital
smells. Even after I showered I still felt the place clinging to me,
the death and pain of it all.  

Scully came into the bathroom as I was dressing. She looked perturbed,
hollows under her eyes as if she hadn't slept well. I'd dropped off
quickly, and assumed she had too. Had she been up during the night? 

"I had a bad dream," she admitted quietly, gazing at her twisting
hands. "Erin was in the dark place." 
It sounded childish but was nevertheless chilling. The dark place. Our
beloved little monkey, in the dark place? No. No way in hell. 

Not able to verbalise a response, I simply pulled her against me in a
hug. There was only so much a hug could do, but it was a start. 

     - - - - } - - - - } - - @        t h e   x - f i l e s  

- SCULLY POV - 

We were leaving the kids for Mom to take to school while we went home
to change for work. Mulder would sit with Erin in the morning, Kathy
would take the middle of the day, and I would do the afternoon to
bedtime shift. The kids had protested, wanting to help, but we'd
instinctively decided against it. They'd lost enough school time as it
was, and hanging around the hospital couldn't be good for them
psychologically. It wasn't an easy place to be. 

I hugged Mom goodbye and found it hard to let her go. How I'd love to
just stay there with her, pushing all my problems from mind, just be a
child again with my mom to protect me against the world. I couldn't do
that, I knew, but how I wanted to. 

"I just have to thank you, Mom," I said quietly, "for being so good to
Mulder and I and the kids. I know it wasn't easy for you in the
beginning, when we first got Josh and Astrid, and I know that with
Erin's illness it's hard on all of us. I'm sorry. I never meant to give
you such a burden and -" I was crying again. I hated that. But Mom
hugged me, warm and strong. 

"You haven't caused any of this, Dana. It's not your fault. I know
things have been hard for you and I'm just so proud of the way you've
got through it all." 

I nodded, sniffling uselessly. She was stroking my hair, holding me as
if I was five with a skinned knee or fifteen with a broken heart.  

"If Erin is out of the hospital by the end of the week," she suggested
gently, "maybe you should come along to mass on Sunday. It's been
months since you came." 

I shook my head. "Mom, no..." 

"Or you could talk to Father McCue. You know he'd listen." 

No, Mom. No. Don't. Please, don't.  

"You're only making this harder, Dana, when you push God away." 

"I don't want to think about that right now," I protested, tired anger
in my heart. I knew she was right but there was a part of me that
refused to listen, that just didn't want to hear it. "Things are hard
enough. I just need some space from it all." 

"You need Him. He understands suffering, Dana." 

I would go mad if I had to keep listening to her. I pulled out of her
hug, rubbing my eyes, not wanting to look at her and face it.  

"Things will pick up again soon," she promised softly, disappointed. 

I wanted to believe her, I really did. But I think I knew even then
that the worst was yet to come. 
  

     - - - - } - - - - } - - @        t h e   x - f i l e s  

- MULDER POV - 

Kathy was half an hour into her shift when she called. Erin's ANC had
bottomed out and they'd diagnosed a neutropenic fever. They were taking
her off all chemo and putting her on broad-spectrum intravenous
antibiotics. 
We'd been going through the reports from Jenkins Falls - or, what was
left of it. Lee Wasnik, whoever he or she really was, had vanished.
Wishful Thinking had been emptied and gutted by fire. Several houses
and town buildings had been burnt, most stores had been looted. Police
from neighbouring towns had joined forces to control the chaos. Dozens
of people had been hurt, even more arrested. Sarah Elizabeth Menzies
had suffered another grand mal seizure in the hospital. She was in a
coma and not expected to recover. That news came through only a few
minutes before Kathy called and I could only wonder uneasily if it were
prophetic. 

Scully and I tossed down our work and were out the door in a matter of
seconds. We'd learnt to dread fevers, had been warned of their
potential fatality if Erin's absolute neutrophil count dropped. This
was serious. 

"We should let the kids know," Scully murmured as we headed out into
the parking lot together, heads down, pace quickening with every step. 

She was right. The kids were entitled to know. But we both know very
well that once they knew, they'd want to be there. Something like this
threw us all to the verge. My heart sank.  

"You go to Erin," I directed grimly, tossing her the keys. "I'll
requisition us another car and pick the kids up on my way to the
hospital." 

She looked at me, eyes agonised. "You sure?" 

I nodded, trying to be calm. "Piece of cake." 

     - - - - } - - - - } - - @        t h e   x - f i l e s  

- ASTRID POV - 

I was in health class when my celphone rang. I was allowed it at school
so that Mommy and Daddy could be in contact if there was an emergency
but I hated it because every time I looked at it I thought of all the
horrible reasons why it might ring. Mommy was dead. Daddy was dead.
Erin was dead. I knew other kids at school were sometimes scared that
their parents would die but it was very different for us. For us it had
almost happened, and more than just once. 

Mommy and Daddy had told all my teachers about the phone but we had a
substitute and he started looking angry when it was ringing.  
"Cellular phones are *not* to be brought to school," he announced as I
stood up and got it out of my bag. My hands were shaking. Something had
happened to Erin. I knew it had. 

"It's -" I started to protest, but he cut me off, holding out his hand.

"Bring it here, please. You know the rules." 

No, you stupid, stupid man. I have to answer it. I have to know. I have
to, you stupid, stupid stupid man. My eyes were starting to fill with
tears and everything was swimming. I stood there, holding the phone,
wondering if I could even see the right button to answer it. Please. I
have to know that Erin isn't dead. I have to know. 

"It's an emergency," Jenny called out. "Her little sister is really
sick. Only her parents are allowed to call her on that phone." 
I never really thought Jenny liked me. She was thirteen and bossy and
wore tight clothes. She didn't like me cos I was smart, I guess. But
right then I could have hugged her, if I didn't feel all sick inside
and if my head wasn't so fuzzy with fear. 

"Astrid, come outside." Somebody tugged at my hand, pulling me out of
the classroom. They took the phone from me and suddenly the ringing
stopped and the phone was pressed against my ear. I put my hand up to
hold it there, wiping the tears and snot away with the back of my other
hand, feeling all disgusting, horrible inside and out. Only then did I
see who had led me out of the room - Jenny's friend Katrina, who was
thirteen as well. She was the biggest in the class, and I was the
smallest. She called me 'sweetie' a lot of the time, which I hated. 

"Astrid?" 

It was Daddy. I started to cry again. 

"Is it Erin?" 

"Her ANC is zero and she's got a fever. That can be dangerous." 

We all knew that. We'd read all the books and heard all the stories.
Somehow the panicky feeling got even worse. "Is she dying?" 

"They've got her off the chemo and on some antibiotics. We don't know
much more than that yet. I'm on my way to pick you up, 'kay? You and
Josh meet me out the front of the school in five minutes." 

Erin was going to die. I felt it in every bone in my body and in every
hair on my head. Erin was dying. And it was all because I'd been so
stupid and selfish and angry with God. He was punishing me for hating
him.  
"I'm sorry Daddy," I sobbed. "It's my fault.." 

"Not your fault, kiddo," he promised. "I'll see you soon." 

Then he hung up and I felt that sinking feeling of abandonment again. I
couldn't stop crying. This was all my fault.  
"Are you leaving?" Katrina asked me. I'd never heard her sound so
genuinely kind before. I just wanted to let her hug me and tell me it
would be okay but at the same time I knew that wouldn't do, that I
wanted Mommy or Daddy or even Duckie.  

She offered me a tissue and I tried to clean my face up but it was
useless. The tissue just got all soggy. 
"My brother and I have to meet my dad out the front," I told her. Mommy
and Daddy were going to be mad with me when they found out that this
had happened because of me. More than that. They were going to hate me
and never want to look at me or think about me again. And they had
every right to.  

Katrina took me to Joshie's classroom, explaining to his teacher what
had happened, then led us both out of the school to the front gates. I
just followed, trying so hard to stop crying but bursting into tears
every time I thought about it. Erin was really sick and it was all my
fault. God was punishing me. Mommy and Daddy were going to hate me.
Would they hate Joshie too? Would they still let him love me or would
he hate me too?  I looked at Joshie, who stood silently beside me. Even
if I could somehow survive Mommy and Daddy hating me, I wouldn't if
Josh hated me as well. 

Daddy pulled up at the gate and got out of the car. I flew at him. "I'm
sorry, Daddy. Please don't be angry at me. I just miss you and Mommy
and -" 

He prised me away and wiped my tears with his hankie, frowning. "What
are you talking about, kiddo?" 

I gulped down a breath, not wanting to tell him but at the same time
too overrun by guilt. If Erin died... "I was angry at you cos you were
leaving us out and I kept praying that you'd come home and look after
us again and now God's killing Erin because I -" 

He held me by the arms so tightly it almost hurt, and he shook me a
little. "Astrid, it's not your fault. You hear me? This isn't anybody's
fault." 

"But I wanted you and Mommy to come home and look after us and now
God's punishing me for being selfish-" 

"We've all been suffering, Astrid. We all get frustrated and feel left
out. It's not selfish to need your parents." 

He hugged me tightly and I started crying again, and then I just
couldn't stop. The whole time to the hospital in the car I was crying,
then as Daddy had to get all gowned and masked to go in to see Erin
because her immune system was so bad and as Josh and I just waited
outside there with Kathy. Joshie had tears trickling down his cheeks
but he was quiet. Kathy was crying a bit but trying to control it,
trying to be comfort me cos I just couldn't stop crying. Every time I
thought maybe I could just hold all the tears in I'd think about Erin
or Mommy and Daddy or even Josh and then I'd start to cry again. Then I
tried to think about other stuff but that didn't work either, somehow I
always just ended up thinking about Erin. It was so horrible, having to
wait and not know. If we were bigger they'd let us in with Mommy and
Daddy to see Erin. But because we looked so little they didn't trust
us. They thought we had germs and were stupid babies, that we wouldn't
know what to do. I hated them. 

It was almost an hour before Mommy came out, pulling off the sterile
gown she had on. She looked tired. Her face was all tight and drawn. I
don't think she'd been crying, but I think she was pretty close. 
She looked like she was going to say something to us but then she just
hugged us and told us to sit down. I wondered for a terrible moment if
maybe Erin had died, if maybe Daddy was in there holding her one last
time and making arrangements for her funeral. 

Mommy explained quietly that a severe infection was raging. "They're
trying to fight it with the antibiotics but to be honest it's not
working very well. They're giving her transfusions and the hospital has
a series of different treatment tactics they're going to try." She drew
a deep breath and it came out all shaky. "There are some complications,
though. She's started having some kidney problems and -" 

"Is she going to die?" I blurted out. 

Mommy looked at me honestly. "They can't be sure," she answered
quietly. "It could go either way." 

"Can we see her?" That was Joshie, just as quiet as Mommy. 

"Not yet. If they can get her ANC up a little then you can go in, but
at the moment there's just too much chance of further damage. She's in
a pretty fragile state." 

"Is she in pain?" Joshie again. 

"A little. They're looking after her." 

Mommy knelt down in front of us, reaching to touch my cheek, Joshie's
hair. "I'm going to call Grandma, okay?" 

"We're not leaving!" I protested. "We have to stay." 

Mommy nodded. "She'll look after you here. She'll look after all of
us." 

She started to stand, bending to kiss my hair and then Joshie's. "I'll
be back soon." And we watched her walk away. 

"Joshie?" I whispered, but he shook his head, turning away from me. 

"Is she going to die, Joshie?" I whispered, pleading for him to answer.

He didn't turn to look at me. He only shrugged and whispered pitifully,
"I don't know." 

     - - - - } - - - - } - - @        t h e   x - f i l e s  

- SCULLY POV - 

Life became surreal. The next week was a blur of tears and sleep and
pacing and fear, all of us dazed, afraid, angry at our own
helplessness, hating the hospital as we practically lived there but
afraid to ever leave it, leave her.  
We were all on the verge of falling apart but Astrid in particular just
couldn't handle it any more. She kept crying, sometimes silently,
sometimes loud sobs. If we hugged her or rocked her she only cried
louder and wouldn't let go for hours. The only time she stopped was
during the restricted, sterilised visits to see Erin - for those she
managed a small smile and words of comfort. Erin picked up, too, when
Astrid or Josh were allowed in. Still listless, but she talked to them,
let them read her stories, even smiled a little. The fever had gone
down a little but we couldn't shake the infection. How much longer
could she keep fighting it? 

I was starting to dread sleep. I kept having dreams that we'd already
lost her, dreaming of the funeral, of watching the tiny coffin lowered
into the ground, into the darkness. They were too vivid. I knew exactly
what I was wearing. I could smell the pine trees and the rain and the
fresh earth. The scariest thing was, sometimes Mulder wasn't even there
beside me, or the kids or Mom or even Jacqueline. It was just me at
Erin's grave and when I looked up at the headstone her name was on
there, in her handwriting; even though she couldn't write yet I *knew*
it was her handwriting, and the 'e' was backwards and the 'n' looked
like a 'h'. And I was standing there, just gazing at the headstone,
alone at her grave. 

"Dana?" It was Doctor Carson. "Can I speak with you for a moment?" 

I nodded, taking a seat as he gestured, not speaking but just waiting. 

"Her ANC is down again. I have to be honest with you and tell you that
we're running out of options. It's not looking good." 

I nodded numbly, not really wanting to let it soak in. Somehow, despite
what I knew scientifically, despite how intensely I felt the fear and
the pain of it all, the idea that Erin might really die was still
somehow incomprehensible. There had been too many eleventh-hour
rescues, miracle cures. 

The doctor touched me lightly on the shoulder and left. I sat there,
rubbing my eyes tiredly, refusing to let the latest news penetrate. I
stood, legs aching, head heavy, heart guarded. I went in search of the
others. 

Josh and Astrid were praying together. I stopped short when I saw that,
uneasy, feeling the guilt rise up within me. I just couldn't reach to
God on this. He was too far away. There was too much holding me down. 
Mulder appeared with a styrofoam cup of coffee. He put it down and
moved closer to the kids, putting his arms around them - in comfort,
not in prayer. I wanted badly to do as he had done, to hold on, to
comfort and be comforted, and to go to God with this and put my
troubles in His hands, but my heart was so heavy, it held me back. I
couldn't. 

I stayed back, watching them with a resigned sort of helplessness.
Mulder glanced up and something in his eyes stirred panic in me. I
turned away and took off, almost running, not sure where I was going
til I ended up outside Erin's room, panting for breath, tears
threatening to overcome me. I pressed my fingertips against the glass,
gazing in at her. She was sleeping, finally. Emaciated, her face gaunt,
she was just so tiny, so vulnerable. Intense grief rose up in me. We
were losing her. We were losing her and we couldn't do anything about
it. 

"Scully?"  

Mulder had followed me. I turned to look at him, honestly, tears and
fear in my eyes before looking away. His eyes, his whole face screamed
out with silent pain. I put my hands to my face, covering my face,
hiding. 

"Scully..." 

I ran my fingers through my hair and looked at him again.  

"Tell me," was all he said. 

"The kids have such a strong faith," I admitted, my voice husky, barely
a whisper. "So simple but so strong. I envy that so much." 

"Why?" 

"Because I've been struggling with my faith for so long, now. I've
pleaded with God but I'm not getting an answer and yet I can't give up
on it because I know in my heart that He's in control. I'm just afraid
- and angry - that this is His will, that it's going to happen and
nothing we do can stop it..." 

I was crying. I hadn't cried much at all the last week. Mulder and I
were trying our damndest to put the grief on hold til - til. We would
cry when it was over, whichever way it went. 

Mulder drew me against him, holding me silently. These hugs which had
always calmed and reassured did so little to comfort, to ease the
intense pain. 

We sat side by side in silence in the carpeted hallway, backs to the
wall. There wasn't much to say to each other these days. To talk about
anything other than Erin seemed sacrilege, but none of us could say
more than a dozen words about Erin without choking up.  

"What are you thinking, Mulder?" I wondered aloud. 

He looked at me. "What if somebody gave Erin this cancer just like they
did to you, trying to weaken us?" 

It wasn't impossible, but - "How would they give her this disease?
There's no chip. They would have picked one up, with all the x-rays and
tests. And how would they have implanted it?" 

"Graham could have," he answered quietly, frowning. "There were dozens
of opportunities when we were in Australia." 

I shuddered at the thought. We'd trusted him. He'd looked after the
kids and Erin - he'd changed Erin's diaper, for crying out loud. What
if he had done something to her? She'd gotten sick just after we got
back from Australia. She hadn't even been well when we were there -
what if those had been earlier symptoms? But why would he do that? What
did he have to gain? And how did we put things right? 

Mulder stood, giving me a hand up. 

I looked at him suspiciously. "Where are we going?" Was he going to run
off and try and beat some answer out of Graham? No, he didn't look
angry, just pensive. He was still thinking. 

"See the kids," was his brief response. So we went to join the kids as
they sat in the lounge with Jacqueline. They were all red-eyed. Astrid
had just shut down and sat slumped against Jacqui. Josh sat, alert,
swinging his feet in a sort of desperate rhythm. Jacqueline was asleep.
She'd been here since finishing work at three yesterday afternoon. It
was now early Wednesday morning. We would have to call Skinner again,
drop by work to pick up some more cases to try and deal with.  

Mulder was pacing. Josh was now hunched over, ears covered, eyes
closed, perfectly still as if he were trying to soak up everything. I
knew it worried him that he wasn't often allowed in to see Erin. He
needed to see and feel and listen to understand. When it came to Josh
himself *I* didn't really understand. Mulder was quietly confident of
the kids' psychic abilities, that Josh in particular had strong ESP.
Somehow to me that wasn't an issue. I wasn't afraid of what they might
read of my mind. They were just Josh and Astrid. They knew things, they
sensed them. We'd adjusted to that, accepted it. But I still wasn't
sure what Josh was hoping for. Did he just want to read her mind and
feel her pain to understand her, or did he think he could heal her? I'd
seen him several times, hand stretched out toward her, eyes closed,
utter concentration on his face. 

"Mommy?" It was Astrid. Her lower lip was trembling and she tugged at
my hand with something near panic. "Mommy, I need to go in and see
her..." 

"You can't, sweetie," I said gently. "It's not safe for Erin. You know
that." 

"But I *have* to," she insisted, almost jumping on the spot. "I need to
see her, Mommy. I'll do whatever it takes. I need to see her again." 

Running out of options. Not looking good. 

"No, Astrid." 

"Mommy, I -" 

Mulder crouched down on front of her, trying to calm her. "Astrid, Erin
isn't doing as well. None of us should go in -" 

"But I *have* to," she pleaded. He was holding her arms and she tried
to pull away. "You've gotta let me go in. You have to. Erin needs me
there." 

"Astrid -"  

Mulder caught her arm again and she screamed. "Let me go!! I have to
see her. I have to. You've gotta tell the doctors to let me go in -" 

I spoke the word as gently but firmly as I could, feeling my heart
break. I knew how she felt. "No." 

Mulder was still struggling to hold on to Astrid and she hit him. "I
hate you! You don't care about me or Josh. I hate you!!" 
Tears streaming down her face, she ran off down the corridor. Mulder
straightened up, stunned, a different sort of hurt in his eyes. 

"She didn't mean that," I promised him, touching his arm. 

"I know," he agreed, nodding. But it still hurt. 
  

It was barely a minute before Astrid came running back, throwing her
arms around Mulder, sobbing apologies. Mulder held her tightly,
accepting the apology. He sat down, holding her on his lap, rocking her
as she cried. We all sat, each of us in our own private hell. 
  

     - - - - } - - - - } - - @        t h e   x - f i l e s  

- MULDER POV - 

I could almost smell death's foul breath; feel it in the air, taste it
in the food we forced down. Death was coming. None of us had said so
aloud, but we all knew it. 

Fear is an intimate and most oft-calling aquaintance who turns up
uninvited, sometimes bringing with him Death and Pain.  

I knew that first paragraph of Josh's poem by heart. It was running
through my mind endlessly, always getting stuck in the same place, the
first line of the second verse: I have watched you struggle. My mind
got snagged and echoed the line, over and over. I have watched you
struggle. I have watched you struggle. Struggle. Add that to the list
of words I can honestly say I know the meaning of.  

Scully and Jacqueline were talking. Jacqueline was reassuring Scully
that this disease could never harm Josh or Astrid, that immunity to
cancer, disease of any sort, had been programmed into their genetic
makeup. But why the hell didn't she do the same for Erin, Scully
demanded. She was getting tetchy. She was entitled to. Jacqueline could
have stopped this from ever happening. 

"You and Fox were adamant," Jacqueline said defensively. "You wanted
Erin to be normal." 

Scully's jaw tensed. I could tell she was about to blow up at
Jacqueline and I didn't want to see that happen. I reached, resting my
hand on her knee.  

"You've been here for a while," I told Jacqueline quietly. "Why don't
you go home and get some sleep?" 

Jacqueline looked at Scully, hesitated, then nodded. "Sure. I'll see
you later, okay?" 

Scully got to her feet the moment Jacqueline was out of sight. "I don't
need you doing that, Mulder." 

"I don't want fighting," I answered quietly. "Between any of us. We
don't need to make things worse." 

She nodded, lips pursed. She was still angry. Maybe it would do her
good to explode, but I didn't know if I could handle bearing the brunt
of her anger. 

Deciding it was better not to try and offer comfort, I took a seat.
Astrid and Josh were both asleep and I sat close to them, wanting to
feel I was helping somebody. Scully was pacing when her mother arrived,
bringing dinner. How many hours had we been in the hospital? It was
endless. We felt useless and suffocated but none of us dared leave, too
afraid that Erin would just slip away in our absence. 
Scully didn't take her mother's arrival well. Margaret tried to hug her
but Scully pushed away offers of comfort and food. Margaret tried to
push her, reminding her of the baby, and that was when Scully did
explode.  
"Just leave, Mom. *Please*. Just take the kids back to your place and
take care of them. I can't deal with all this. I can't be strong for
everybody." 

"Dana -" 

"I can't *breathe*," Scully whispered, pitiful, pleading. "I can't deal
with this all. I need to focus on Erin. *Please*." 

Margaret nodding, her eyes meeting mine gravely. She was worried about
Scully. As was I. Everybody was worried about everybody. Our only hope
was that we would have a reprieve from the stress soon. But would that
reprieve come at the cost of Erin's life?  
  

The kids were terrified at the thought of leaving Erin. Astrid put her
foot down, refusing, but Scully snapped at her and Astrid shrunk back.
She looked to me. "Please don't do this," she whispered. 

I didn't know how to respond to the appeal. I knew how Scully felt. I
knew that it wasn't easy to have to deal with the kids' grief as well
as our own. But push the kids away, blind them? That would kill them. 

"Take them outside for a while," I told Margaret gently. "Half an hour
or so." 

I saw only disappointment and agonised fear in Astrid's eyes as
Margaret tugged her away, as if the reduced sentence was still too much
to bear. But, then, everything these days was too much to bear. 

"I shouldn't have done that," Scully realised, watching with dismay as
they left the room. "Oh God, I shouldn't have done that. What was I
thinking?" 

"The fresh air will do them good." I paused. "It would do us good, too.
When was the last time you went outside? Yesterday?" 

She shook her head. "I'm fine, Mulder. I'm fine." 

"I don't believe that. I think your heart is racing along at the same
dizzying speed as mine, that you feel all numb, that you're in a
permanent state of panic, that you feel like if you so much as have to
say yes or no you'll explode." 

She sniffed, inclining her head sideways in acknowledgement. I sat down
on the couch the kids had vacated, tugging her down next to me. Erin's
monkey was laying on the couch and I picked it up, squeezing its belly
to make it squeak. I could still remember first seeing it in the toy
store, before it was chewed and drooled and slept on. So, so much had
changed since then.  

"Sometimes," Scully confided unhappily, "I wonder if it would have been
better if we'd never gotten the kids, never gotten Erin... But it
wouldn't be worth it, Mulder. The pain of what we're going through
isn't as bad as the pain of having no family, no future, nobody who'll
tell you that they love you. I know that - *know* that - and yet
somehow I still find myself almost... wishing that we hadn't had Erin,
because then we would never have to go through this." She let out a
shaky sigh. "I'm really falling apart," she acknowledged. 

"We all are," I admitted. And there was nothing more I could say. I
couldn't promise that it would be over soon. We didn't want it to be,
because right now we weren't looking at recovery or death - we were
looking at death tomorrow or death in a week. Nobody said so aloud, of
course. But they gave us no hope, either. 

I literally spoon-fed Scully from one of the tupperware containers
Margaret had brought up. She protested hollowly that she wasn't hungry
and I knew that she was telling the truth, that she wasn't. But we
still had to eat. Scully had promised me we weren't going to lose this
new baby and I was trying my damndest to make that true. We couldn't
lose this new baby as well. 

A nurse came to tell us that Erin was a little improved and we were
allowed to sit with her, no gowns or masks needed. She was sleeping but
though she did look a little better, I quashed all the voices of hope
that popped up. I knew the real reason they weren't insisting on
sterilised visits any more. 
We sat on either side of the bed, hands held across her tiny sleeping
form, the other hand on Erin. I held one of her tiny hands on mine,
examining every nail and knuckle like the night she was born, when we'd
had only hopes, when we'd had her whole life ahead of us. What if we
had known? Would we have done things differently? Would we have still
both worked, losing all those precious hours that could have been spent
teaching her, loving her? How could we have just thrown all that away?
The x-files were only a job. They had caused so much death and pain.
Why had we chosen them over this beautiful daughter? Was that choice
the reason that now, we were losing her? Was this our punishment? 

A lump burned in my throat and I let out a choking cry, tears in my
eyes, Erin's gaunt face swimming before me. I hadn't cried, somehow,
since we'd heard about the infection, but now the floodgates opened and
I couldn't stop myself. I didn't want to. Erin was dying. It was time
to grieve. 

     - - - - } - - - - } - - @        t h e   x - f i l e s  

- SCULLY POV - 

Mulder disappeared. I'd fallen asleep on the couch outside again and
when I woke early in the morning he was gone. I thought he'd just gone
for a walk to stretch his legs or even check on Erin but minutes past
and he didn't return. I tried to reach him on his cellphone, wondering
if for some reason he'd gone home briefly but he wasn't answering. The
kids, who'd slept huddled on the other couch, were avoiding me as if
afraid of being again cast out. I was swamped with a paranoid fear of
abandonment. What was going on? 

He didn't return til a quarter to ten, looking haggard, despairing. I
dragged him out of the kids range of hearing and listened to his weary
explanation. He'd been trying fruitlessly to find past contacts, with
the smoking man or even Graham. Trying to find a cure.  

"Nothing," he said helplessly, voice choked. I opened my arms to him,
knowing how hard he must have tried. What had he offered in exchange?
What would he have been willing to sacrifice to save Erin? 

I just want this to be over, I thought fiercely, but the thought of
Erin dying terrified me and I immediately recanted the thought,
panicking that God had heard me. Don't you take her away, I warned Him
angrily. You're all powerful. This is Your choice. Don't you take my
baby away.  

     - - - - } - - - - } - - @        t h e   x - f i l e s  

- ASTRID POV - 

The doctors were calling Erin a terminal case. They'd run out of drugs
and tactics to try and they were recommending palliative care -
morphine to make her comfortable. They weren't going to keep fighting.
They were just going to let her die. 

"You can't let them do that," I protested, when Mommy told us what the
doctors had said. Couldn't she see that? How could we just let Erin
die? Mommy and Daddy always kept fighting. They couldn't just stop. How
could they just let her go? If they only loved her even half as much as
we did, how could they? 
It was too late for a bone marrow transplant or even alternative
treatments, Mommy said, when Joshie suggested an organic treatment
protocol. Her voice went all wobbly when she said that we were allowed
to sit with Erin if we wanted, that we should start to say goodbye to
her.  

"Her kidneys are starting to fail," Mommy said gently. Tears were
sliding down her cheeks. I watched them, trying to numb myself, not
think about what she was saying.  "The rest of her organs are also
weakening, starting to shut down. She doesn't have long left." 

"How long?" Joshie asked, apprehensive. He was crying silently too. How
could they cry so silently? Every sob felt like it wanted to explode in
my throat. 

"The doctors think it will be a couple of days, at most. She's going
downhill fast." 

"Maybe if you ask other doctors -" 

Mommy shook her head at my suggestion. She touched my chin gently. "Why
don't you go in there now and see if she's awake? I think she'd like it
if you read her a story." 

Erin loved stories. I didn't think I could see past my tears to read
let alone read aloud but Erin loved stories and if that was all we
could do for her we had to do it. I nodded, trembling. 

     - - - - } - - - - } - - @        t h e   x - f i l e s  

- MULDER POV - 

Erin had bad diarrhea. Her diapers needed changing constantly, some one
only a few minutes after the last. They kept upping the morphine and
still she was in pain, crying quietly, the bleating of a newborn.  

"She's just slipping away," Scully whispered, disbelieving. "So fast.
Why is she slipping away so fast?" 

The doctors had said a couple of days but that had been a generous
estimate, we knew. We were losing her, a breath at a time. 

Erin's doctor pulled us aside, quietly reminding us that we had to make
a decision whether or not Erin be made DNR, whether she be resuscitated
or not. They'd hinted at it before but only now were they really
pushing for a decision and Scully and I, beyond pain and grief, just
stared at him.  
"She's in a lot of pain," he said gently, "and, frankly, there's little
to nil chance of her recovering after being this far gone. Her kidneys
are failing, her lungs are starting to deteriorate..." 
He went on and on. "Nearing the end," he kept saying. I hated that
phrase but he kept using it. 'Nearing the end'... 

     - - - - } - - - - } - - @        t h e   x - f i l e s  

- SCULLY POV - 

Don't make me make this choice! I screamed silently when he brought up
the DNR order. I hated him for suggesting it, hating the leukemia and
the hospital and the world for forcing me to choose. What if we made
the wrong choice? What if we made a mistake we had to live with for the
rest of our lives? 

Carson left us to discuss it and we didn't hesitate. We didn't have
time to hesitate. 

"We don't want her to be in pain," I stated, trying to be clinical.
Each word was a crippling pain in my heart but some inner reseve
somewhere pushed me on. We had to say this. If we just said it then the
decision was over and somehow that would make things easier. It had to.
"We shouldn't keep her alive if it's just extending her misery. She's
terminal." 

"You were terminal," Mulder reminded me quietly. His jaw was set. 

I nodded, acknowledging it. "But we've tried everything. The hospital
has run out of options, so have we. I don't think we're going to get a
miracle cure here." 

"Why should we just let her go?" Mulder demanded in sudden anger. 

"Because we love her." 

He gazed at me and I saw the anger fading, pained acceptance dawning.
He nodded and I took a step toward him, putting my arms around him,
holding him. He was frozen for a second, then I felt his heavy arms
lifted and put around me. I buried my face in his sweater, hiding, for
a long second just letting the numbness keep all the pain and thought
out. 

It's almost over. 
  

     - - - - } - - - - } - - @        t h e   x - f i l e s  

- JACQUELINE POV - 

They were all there. Fox and Dana were in with Erin, Astrid and Josh
and Margaret and Kathy were all sitting there, waiting. How could they
just stand to sit there? I thought I would burst with the pain. 

Josh was sitting apart from the others. I went over, kneeling beside
him.  
"How are you doing, Josh?" 

His lower lip trembled as he glanced at me. "She's not supposed to
die." 

"Nobody is supposed to die that young." 

He shook his head. "No. Erin doesn't die. Not yet. God says not yet.
But I tried to save her and I can't..." 

"How did you try to save her?" I wondered aloud. 

He sniffed. "I put my hand on her and I prayed. It didn't do anything."

I bit my lip and gazed at him, wondering. Was there a chance? What if
it would work and I didn't try it? What if Erin died because I doubted?
I'd tried everything else to save her and failed. This was all I had
left. 

"When you were a baby," I told him quietly, "they were testing your
immunity. Your blood was fantastic, Josh. It would reproduce needed
cells at incredible rates, keeping everything balanced. Your blood
count was always perfect." 

He knew exactly where I was going with it. "Erin and I are both AB
rhesus positive," he said carefully, watching me. 

I nodded, excitement, hope flowing through my veins. "I want to give
Erin a transfusion - not just of any normal person's blood, but of
yours. I had to ask you first, to know that you're willing to try. I
don't want Dana and Fox's hopes up." 

He started to rise. "We have to do it now." 
  

Erin was asleep. We passed Fox on the way out as we entered, and found
Dana pacing. The blinds were pulled and the room was in darkness. She
greeted me with a clawing hug but didn't say anything, just went on
pacing. 
"Dana, you should go out for some fresh air," I said gently. We
couldn't have her in the way. I knew this had to be done, then Dana
told. There was too much of a chance she would stop us. 

Dana stopped pacing to look at me. "She's getting worse."  

"I know she is. But she's asleep. Go outside for ten minutes, get
something to eat. You can't stay in here forever." 

"She doesn't have forever," Dana said tightly. 

Josh moved forward, touching Dana's hand. "She'll be fine til you come
back," he told her earnestly. "I promise." 

Dana gazed at him with pained frown. I wondered for a moment if she
were going to break down but she got herself under control and nodded.
"Ten minutes." 

She took one last agonised look at Erin and then left, closing the door
after her. I checked that it had closed properly then headed over to
the bed, picking up the chart and flicking through it. We were losing
her. 
"We've got to act fast, Josh," I warned.  

He nodded. He knew. There was trust in his eyes. 

"I can't promise that this is going to work," I said, pleading with
him. "Don't get your hopes up. Please. I just feel we have to try." 

He nodded. "Hurry," he urged. 
  

I searched the room, finding the right equipment, laying it out.
"You're going to want to lie down, Josh," I told him quietly. "Else
you'll get dizzy." 

He climbed up onto the bed beside Erin, laying down beside her. He was
as white as the sheets, trembling with fear and emotion. How could I
put the poor kid through this? But I had to. We had to try. 

"You've got to be calm as possible, Josh," I pleaded. "I know it's hard
but you've got to be hard." 

He didn't wince as I found the vein and plunged the needle in, only
squeezed his lips tight together. I hooked it all up, one end in Josh,
the other end attached to Erin's IV. I reached and took Josh's hand in
mine. 
"Okay, I want you to squeeze my hand every couple of seconds. Just
gently. Not too fast. Let me know if anything feels funny, if it hurts
or if you start feeling dizzy or flushed." 

He nodded, his fingers closing around mine. Squeeze. Squeeze. Squeeze.
I watched as the blood oozed through the tube. Josh was staring at
Erin's gaunt face, tears trickling down his cheeks. 

God, Dana's God, Josh and Astrid's God - wherever you are, *please*...
Please. I prayed that same one word over and over. Help Erin. Comfort
Fox and Dana and the kids who are suffering so badly. Please.  

I kept my eyes on my watch, too afraid that if I didn't somehow I'd
just lose track of time. I needed something to anchor my mind, it felt
so unsteady.  
It had been five minutes and the instruction for Josh to stop was on
the tip of my tongue, but something help me back. Just a little bit
more, a voice in my head kept saying. Just a little bit more. Then Josh
stopped, his grip on my hand slackening. He'd fainted. 

I quickly removed the needle and bandaged the puncture point, clamping
the end of the tube, hooking the drip back up. Erin hadn't stirred
during the whole procedure. Her vitals were unchanged. 

"Josh!" I shook him gently, reaching for the spare pillows and shoving
them under his legs to elevate them. "Josh!" 

He stirred, opening his eyes with a whimper.  

"I thought I told you to tell me when you got dizzy," I chided gently,
feeling a little guilty. "We would have stopped it." 

He shook his head slightly. "She needed that much." He tried lifting
his head but I pushed him back down. 
  
"Lay still for a moment." 

I checked Erin again then I poured him a glass of water and helped him
down off the bed, sitting him in the chair beside the bed, holding the
water for him to drink. He was pale, sweaty and trembling. "You'll be
okay. Just don't move for a minute." 

"Be quick," he urged, looking past me to the evidence of the
transfusion laying on the tray beside the bed. I nodded, starting to
clean up. Then I heard the door open. 

It was Dana. 

She took the scene in in one swoop and charged forward. "What the hell
are you doing?" she accused. 

I was silent and she went over to Erin's bedside, checking her over.
"What did you do to her?" 

Again, I didn't answer. 

Her eyes flashed. "You're not a miracle worker, Jacqueline! Whatever
you're trying to do, you can't save her!" 

"At least I'm trying!" I retorted. "You and Fox have just given up!" 

She stared at me, furious. "Don't you dare accuse me of not trying my
damndest to save my daughter's life." 

"You're just letting her die!" 

"We have tried *everything*," she yelled. "We've tried everything and
she's still dying. Don't you understand that? We've lost." 

"Not yet!" I shouted back. 

She shook her head. "Whatever secret potion you've got, Jacqui, it's
only false hope. It's only going to hurt us all. Please don't make this
hurt any more than it already does." 

I gazed at her unhappily. I just didn't understand. How could she not
keep trying right up until the last breath? "I thought you were
fighters, you and Fox." 

Dana's face crumpled and she covered it with her hands. "Just get out,
Jacqui." 

"Dana -" I held out my hands entreatingly. I'd brought Erin into the
world, nothing short of a miracle. Why turn down the offer of a miracle
now? 

"Just get out!" she yelled, gesturing angrily, pleadingly.  

I nodded slowly, reaching out to Josh, who was huddled in the chair,
watching the entire proceedings. I took his hand. "Erin's a fighter," I
said quietly, and I led Josh out of the room. My feet felt like lead. I
could feel Josh's terror, knew how deeply he felt that every step was a
betrayal, an abandonment of the little sister he loved so much. 

He was wobbly on his feet, too, still not properly recovered from the
transfusion. I should have let him lie down longer, I knew. If I'd
known Dana was going to catch us either way I would have done so.  
I led him to the nearest snack vending machine and forced him to eat a
handful of jellybeans, one by one. He was still trembling - not just
the blood loss but the sheer terror, the uncertainty of whether Erin
would die or survive. He was almost frozen with fear. 
I picked him up, carrying him down the hallway to where Astrid and Fox
and Margaret were huddled.  
Fox rose. "What happened?" 

"He's fine," I said quickly, lowering Josh to the ground. "Just a
little tired." 

Fox nodded, glancing briefly at Josh and then me. "Where's Scully?" 

"In with Erin." 

He nodded grimly and took off toward Erin's room. I watched him go with
guilt and apprehension. What would his reaction to the transfusion be?
Would he be angry as Dana was, or would he at least appreciate that we
were trying? 

"Mommy and Daddy had to make a decision," Astrid told me quietly. "They
decided to make Erin DNR." 

"When did they decide that?" 

"Just before you went in." 

Oh God, I realised, insides sinking. And I'd yelled at her. I yelled at
Dana after the made the decision to let her baby girl die. 

     - - - - } - - - - } - - @        t h e   x - f i l e s  

- MULDER POV - 

"Mulder, I need you to do something for me." 

"What?" 

She held out her hand. It was shaking. "Pray with me." 

I took her hand cautiously. Wouldn't she want a priest? There would be
one in the hospital, surely. Why call on me to help pray? 

"You're her father, Mulder. Surely if anybody's prayers count here,
it's ours." She gripped my hand tightly. Her lashes were wet with
tears.  

"What do I do?" I felt stupid asking but I didn't want to make a
mistake. 

She placed my free hand on Erin's chest and then took Erin's limp hand,
heaving a sigh. She closed her eyes. I did the same. I half expected
her to just pray silently or even just whisper or mumble but instead
she spoke aloud, though brokenly. 
"God, we commit our beautiful baby girl to you." 

And that was it. She let out a shaky Amen and released my hand.  

I opened my eyes and stood there, awkward. What now? 

Scully climbed onto the edge of the bed, carefully lifting Erin up,
mindful of all the tubes and cables, and holding her in her arms. Erin
stirred and Scully smiled unhappily at her. "Hi, my sweetie." 

Erin let out a whimper, wriggling listlessly.  

"Yeah, I know," Scully soothed, pain on her face. "You don't feel so
great, do you? How about we read a story?" 

"Tory," Erin echoed, sleepy. The way they kept upping the morphine it
was likely to kill her before the cancer did, I thought. I wasn't sure
how I thought about that. 

"Daddy will help us read the story," Scully went on, voice breaking.
"That sound good?" 

"Good," Erin agreed, unenthused. She sounded so tired. I could hear the
pain in her voice, the suffering.  

I climbed up onto the bed, pulling Scully and Erin both onto my lap,
holding them, never wanting to let them go. And we began to read.  

Erin drifted in and out during the story. Scully and I took turns
reading but found it near impossible to stay unemotional enough to read
clearly. But we persevered, knowing we'd regret it for the rest of our
lives if we didn't fill every last moment Erin had with the stories and
songs she loved.  

Then she started gasping for breath. We hadn't really thought through
what would happen when the end came. I guess we'd just assumed she'd
fall asleep and not ever wake up again with that insatiable desire to
greet the new day. To have her in our arms wheezing and gasping was a
blow.  

One of us must have hit the panic button or else they were monitoring
from outside, because the staff were in there in a matter of seconds,
taking Erin from us, pushing us out of the way, checking her over,
giving her oxygen. Her vitals were going crazy. Then we heard the one
noise we'd been dreading - the heartrate monitor, flatlining. 

Scully and I just stood there, holding each other with numb, shaking
hands, so acutely aware of every detail and yet unable to function
coherently.  

Dr Carson turned to face us. "Should we resuscitate?" 

We hadn't signed the DNR yet, I realised. We could still back out...
But we'd decided against it, a decision made as objectively as
possible. But what did we lose if we threw that decision out now? What
harm was there in trying? 

     - - - - } - - - - } - - @        t h e   x - f i l e s  

- ASTRID POV - 

They just sat there, Duckie and Joshie and Kathy and Grandma. We could
hear that horrible, horrible long beep and we all knew what it meant,
you could see on every person's face what they were thinking, the
horror and grief that was just numbing them. Frozen. Completely and
utterly still. Not breathing, not thinking, not aware of tears rolling
down cheeks or surroundings or date or time or year. Just knowing that
Erin was - going? gone?  

     - - - - } - - - - } - - @        t h e   x - f i l e s  

- MULDER POV - 

Erin, Erin, Erin, Erin... Her name echoed uselessly in my mind,
pleading, grieving, loving. Erin, my beautiful Monkey. The end of Erin.
Total nonexistence. No more impish red-haired blue-eyed monkey -!  
What were we doing? How could we just let her go? Even if it meant only
a few more hours to hold her and love her, I wanted that, needed that.
I wasn't ready to lose her.  

"Do it," I muttered quietly. "Bring her back. Bring her back..." 

Scully was nodding, unable to speak. Bring her back. Give us just a few
more precious seconds with our child.  

They charged the defibrillator, rubbed the pads together. "Clear!"
Carson announced, sending the shock through Erin's tiny, fragile form.
Pause, then, again, "Clear!" We jumped with the shock. Then again and
again. The next one will bring her back, I felt with a helpless sort of
hope. The next one. The next one... 

They kept going for seventeen minutes. I knew that only because one of
the nurses was keeping track. To me it could have been anywhere between
thirty seconds and a thousand years. I felt like I was holding my
breath, watching them work with this pleading hope that wouldn't stop
torturing me.  
I took a breath. God help me... 

"Let her go." 

Again, Scully nodded in agreement. The doctor nodded and all the staff
stepped back, switching off machines, removing the tubes. The doctor
quietly announced time of death. Four eighteen am.  

Her hand slipping into mine, Scully moved forward as the staff quietly
filed out. Erin lay there, so still. Gazing at her somehow it all
slipped my mind for a blessed second and I saw her only asleep, but
then as I waited for the rise and fall of her chest the terrible truth
hit me hard, almost blinding me with grief and horror and
hopelessless.  
Scully bent forward, kissing Erin's forehead, brushing back the thin
locks remaining. Then she gently lifted Erin, holding her against her
shoulder, rocking ever so slightly on her heels as if she were singing
Erin to sleep. I gently pulled Scully to face me, bent to kiss Erin's
still warm forehead, and wrapped my arms around the pair of them,
holding them both close.  

We stayed there as she began to grow cold. 
  

     - - - - } - - - - } - - @        t h e   x - f i l e s  

- JACQUELINE POV - 

They couldn't say the words. They got as far as "We los-" and just
stopped, unable to go any further. But the kids knew. We all knew. It
was so unjust, so wrong, but it had happened. We'd lost her. 
There was a burning pain inside me but I knew my own grief was
secondary. I stood back and let Fox and Dana draw the kids close, the
four of them crying with irrevocable grief, so stunned, so agonised.
Josh was shaking his head. I knew his thoughts. No, you're wrong. She's
not supposed to die. We don't lose her yet. But his voice was wrong, it
had misled him. His God had promised something and not delivered. That
just broke Josh.  

They were huddled together, sobbing, for what seemed an eternity. When
they finally pulled away Dana's mom hugged Dana but Dana seemed
oblivious. They were just all so shocked, so overwhelmed by the loss. 
Josh and Astrid wanted to say goodbye and Margaret took them in. I
wanted to hold Erin one last time, but couldn't bring myself to follow
them in. I didn't want to hold her broken body. I wanted to hold her
alive and kicking like I had the night she was born.  

We'd failed. *I* had failed. 

     - - - - } - - - - } - - @        t h e   x - f i l e s  

- SCULLY POV - 

Jacqueline drove us home. I found myself barely able to speak or move,
too afraid that an action would lead to thought, and I knew where my
thoughts would go. I couldn't let myself go there, not yet.  
Jacqui stayed for only a few minutes before leaving for home. She was
reluctant to go - it was only at Mulder's prodding that she did. But we
didn't need her around. She had been too prominent. There were enough
reminders as it was. 

We just sat. We were all in shock, I guess, but there seemed nothing
else to do. We'd all cried so much. We were beyond tears now. We were
all in that fragile, it-hurts-too-much-to-breathe state of numbness. 
The apartment was a mess. We hadn't been home for more than half an
hour all week and there were toys and clothes and homework and case
files strewn all over the place. All of Erin's duplo on the floor. Oh
God... 
I knelt down, starting to gather the pieces, needing something to do.
My hands were familiar with the task and I managed to keep the emotions
at bay until I found two bishops from the chess set amongst the Duplo.
I put them on the kitchen table with shaking hands and left the
remaining Duplo where it was, moving instead to tackle the laundry.
Another bad idea - Erin's clothes, everywhere. 
"We should keep all her things for the new baby," I commented quietly,
oddly calm, fingering some Osh Kosh overalls. Maybe keep some of them
locked away to remember Erin by. Or was that a bad idea? Would that be
too painful? 

I put the overalls down gently on the back of a chair and went into the
living room. They were all sitting there, all numb and blank. A
fleeting thought that we needed to discuss funeral arrangements crossed
my mind but I pushed it away. Not right then.  

I could hear the mid-morning traffic outside. People living their
lives, taking their families and children for granted. I thought about
them with an almost panicky envy. Why us? Why after losing so much did
we lose Erin, when some people never had to feel this pain? 

We just sat. It must have been hours and we barely moved. All alone,
each shouldering our own burden of grief. Josh made the first move,
rising up and leaving the room. Mulder moved to the kitchen table and
sat holding the bishops that I'd found in the Duplo, one in each hand.
Astrid flicked the TV on and sat blindly watching morning cartoons.
Erin - No, Erin wasn't in the crib waiting for somebody to get her up
for the morning, or crawling under the table in search of her dropped
carrot stick or even sitting in front of the TV watching with wide-eyed
interest. Erin was dead. 

It had been hours since we'd slept. I tried to calculate it, thinking
foolishly it would take my mind off Erin, but it only forced me to
think back over the past days and relive all the suffering. My mind
wasn't up to the math anyway, and I gave up and ordered everybody to
bed anyway, shutting all the blinds to block out the bright morning
sun. Sleep would bring relief. It had to. 

Mulder wasn't talking to me, or even looking at me for that matter. I
lay silently beside him, praying for sleep to take me away from the
pain for just a few short hours, but none came. After forty minutes of
trying to keep my mind from straying to Erin I got up again, deciding
to clean out the kitchen. Some of the food had been there for a while
and was going off. It needed to be done and I needed something to do.
I'd go mad if I had to keep catching and redirecting my thoughts and I
just couldn't bear to let myself think of her.  

Yet another stupid idea. The fridge was full of Erin's food, all the
special high-protein, high-calory foods. I thought I could handle it
but with the first container that my hands closed about I broke down
and let the choking sobs overrun me, though no tears could even begin
to express the grief, the severity of the physical pain. 

Footsteps. An arm around me. And two words: "I know." 
  

     - - - - } - - - - } - - @        t h e   x - f i l e s  

- MULDER POV - 

The sun was in my eyes. My back was aching. There was a shrill ringing
noise. Somebody was shaking me. 

I opened my eyes and winced at the bright sunlight. I was on the
kitchen floor, I realised as I gingerly looked around, rolling my neck.
Scully was pinning me down. We'd fallen asleep. We'd been crying
together because - Oh. No. No.  

"Daddy!" It was Josh, shaking me insistently. "You've got to answer the
phone." 

"Let the machine get it," I muttered, overwhelmed by the sudden wave of
rememberance. It was real. We'd lost her. And yet, despite the
intensity of the grief I refused to believe it. No, she's not dead. We
haven't lost her.  

Shock, the psychologist within me sagely diagnosed. Denial. 

"It's important," Josh pleaded.  

I eased Scully's weight off me and got to my feet, grabbing for the
handset. "Hello?" 

"Fox Mulder? This is Alicia Greenbow at the Children's National Medical
Center. We have an emergency situation concerning your daughter and we
need you and your wife here immediately." 

"My daughter?" I echoed stupidly, not understanding. Dull anger flowed
in my veins. "My daughter died earlier this morning."  

"I'm calling on behalf of Doctor Leonard Carson -" 

"Carson was there. He declared time of death. What the hell is going
on? What kind of sick stunt is this?"  

"Your daughter, Erin Scully, is in -" 

"The morgue." 

"They've got her in the ER at the moment, trying to stabilise her. I
suggest you get here as soon as possible, Mr Mulder." 

I felt the wind knocked out of me. "I... I don't understand." 

"We don't either. All we know is, she's woken up." 

     - - - - } - - - - } - - @        t h e   x - f i l e s  

- SCULLY POV - 

It was a dream. Mulder shook me awake, forcing me to dress and
literally dragging me out the door, driving so fast I braced myself,
sure we were going to crash. We ran through the fluorescently-lit
hospital corridors together, running, running, but as light as air. It
could only be a dream. 

"Hey! Carson!" Mulder's voice echoed down the passageway. It was so
brightly lit, so white. There was a surreal quality to everything. Even
the medical team pushing a guerney down the corridor ahead of us seemed
to glide, their scrubs and coats glowing. One of the men turned around
to face us. Dr Leonard Carson. He was gesturing to us and we ran,
coming to a skidding half beside him.  

And they had Erin. Back on the monitors, a steady heartbeat, covered in
tubes again but looking so healthy, so alive. Her eyes fluttered open
and she reached out, suddenly awake in the same way she often woke from
naps, sprouting the second half of a jumbled sentence. She reached out
to *us*. 

"Night night," she said sleepily, fingers spreading in a wave. 

It wasn't real. It was my subconscious at work, piecing together
fragments, wanting to believe that this wasn't the end, holding onto
the warmth and life of the child I'd held in my arms so many times.  

They were starting to move the gurney again, heading toward the ICU,
but I ran after them, taking Erin's hand. And it was real, I discovered
with a shock. This wasn't just a dream, an escape from the terrible
truth. She was really there, really alive, really speaking to us. Her
hand was so warm, so alive, each finger tensing and stretching, each
knuckle and nail perfect. What had happened? How had she just come back
to us like this? What did this mean? Was this only the one last chance
we'd wanted so desperately, a few more hours or days? Or was she back
for good? 
I didn't know. The one thing that I did know, with my whole heart, was
that she was there. It was real. 

"I'm here, sweetie," I promised her, keeping up with the guerney.
"Daddy's here too." 

She nodded, sleepy. "Night night til morning," she murmured, bringing
her thumb to her mouth, eyelids fluttering closed. 
  

     - - - - } - - - - } - - @        t h e   x - f i l e s  

- MULDER POV - 

We were almost as obsessively attentive as we had been before. The
difference was that every second instead of wanting to crumple in pain
we were buoyant with joy, desperate to treasure every second.  
They kept her in the ICU for thirty-six hours, then had to move her out
because she was becoming such a distraction and they needed the bed for
a more critical patient. It took them only a few hours to have her
completely stabilised and rehydrated. She slept on and off for those
hours, then woke up and stayed awake, alert, and hungry. The little
girl who had spent the last week in tremendous pain and then several
hours in the morgue was whining for a cheeseburger.  

Still puzzled by bizarre recovery, they were reluctant to simply put
her in a ward but instead put her back in a private room, again in the
oncology wing, but at the opposite end of the corridor. She was only on
the IV, now, but even that wasn't stopping her from wanting to go
places, climb under and over things in her room.  

"Tory," Erin was pleading. She pushed her favourite book in Scully's
face, pouting, knowing she wouldn't be refused. Little manipulator.
Precious child. "Tory now." 

"What do we say?"  

"Peace?" She couldn't say please, yet. 

Scully smiled widely. Erin climbed onto her lap, pulling Scully's arms
around her, settling down for the story. As Scully started to read I
picked up the newspaper tossed down on a side table, curious to see if
they had run yet another follow-up article. Sure enough, there it was,
though it seemed now that the spotlight had moved to Jacqueline, and
Erin's survival was now being credited to her conception as part of the
clinic's infertility program and some sort of immortality programmed
into her genes.  

The media had had a field day. There had been plenty of speculation,
theories, interviews. The newspapers and TV crews had been nearly
inescapable. Access to Erin was being limited to family and friends
only, but every day there were streams of press or curious wellwishers
wanting to see Erin for themselves, sure that her revival heralded the
second coming, that it was some sort of sign. We left the hospital
security to deal with it, too focused on Erin. As sudden the
restoration to us and as incredible as the improvement seemed, she was
still sick. The first few hours they'd had her in the ICU there had
still been doubt whether she was here to stay - her vitals had been
fluctuating wildly and every time she finally seemed stable they went
all wiggy again. She'd been half-frozen from the cold storage and
dehydrated too, and even when they managed to get her warmed up and
hooked up to an IV they were still struggling to get the blood
circulating properly in her legs and feet. That any blood was
circulating was unbelieveable enough in itself. 

'Miracle Baby Awakens In Morgue!' was the newspaper headline pinned
above Erin's bed. She loved to show it to every visitor she had,
pointing to the picture of her taken only an hour after she'd revived.
In the photo she was fast asleep, her fingers wrapped around Scully's
pinkie while I stroked her forehead. We hadn't even realised the photo
was being taken until the flash. We'd sat like that for hours that day,
shocked and disbelieving but not willing to challenge where we'd found
ourselves. 

They'd been feeding her intravenously, too suspicious about the
fragility of her system despite the improvement visible both in her
appearance and the results of the dozens of scans they ran. Every
single test had come back with positive results; no brain damage had
occured, her immune system had rebuilt itself at warp speed, her CBC
came back almost completely normal, her kidneys, lungs and other organs
were functioning flawlessly. None of it had been explained. Would it
ever be? 

I gazed at her as she sat in Scully's arms, absorbed in the story.
Already she was gaining weight. After seeing her only losing it for
weeks, if not months, it was almost too good to be true. There were
still leukemia cells in her blood but already some light chemo sessions
had been scheduled. The staff were keen to act fast before the cells
started multiplying again, though also afraid to touch her, to
interfere with whatever her own body was doing in this fight.  

Were the media right? Was there something that Jacqueline had -
inadvertently or intentionally - programmed into Erin's genetic makeup,
something that simply didn't allow the body to die but instead to
recharge and spring back to life? Was such a thing possible? And what
other solution was there? We had watched the morgue surveillance tape
dozens if not hundreds of times. We saw them bring Erin in, do the
cursory exams and then put her in the refridgerated compartment. Six
hours, thirteen minutes and fifty-six seconds passed before the morgue
attendant came running and pulled the drawer open. It wasn't audible on
the tape but the attendant's testimony was enough. He heard crying -
the sound of a small, bewildered, frightened child. He discovered
little Erin Scully, alive and squealing and half-frozen.  
In the six hours and thirteen minutes that passed on the tape, not a
single person went near Erin. 

What had we done to deserve her survival? How was it that yet again
some invisible knight had come to our rescue? How could it be that we
deserved this miracle? 

     - - - - } - - - - } - - @        t h e   x - f i l e s  

- ASTRID POV - 

It took me two hours and ten minutes to solve the last month's worth of
'Daily Tease' puzzles in my inbox. I spent twenty minutes writing
Tay-lah an e-mail and then another fifteen minutes making and eating
lunch. Then I was bored. 

There was a rumour going round school yesterday that chickenpox were
going around and Mommy and Daddy had taken us out of school for the
week. It was only our first day back at school when Mrs Sargeant called
us into her office to say she'd heard about the chickenpox and called
Mommy to pick us up. Nobody wanted us catching them and passing them on
to Erin, even now when she seemed completely better. Everybody was
still treating her really carefully, like she was still sick. She was
getting more attention than ever, but every time I felt myself getting
even the eeniest bit jealous I bit my lip hard and that pain reminded
me of how much of it had hurt when she'd died. I couldn't be jealous
after that. 

Kathy had taken Josh to the clinic. He'd been really quiet lately, all
pale and nervous and distracted. Even Mommy and Daddy who seemed to see
only Erin had noticed it. Kathy had said maybe it was the chickenpox,
and Mommy and Daddy had frowned and nodded, asking Kathy to go get Josh
checked out. They knew that we couldn't get sick, but none of us knew
whether he could still pass it on.  

Josh was scared. Not because he thought it might be chickenpox but
because he'd been quiet and pale since the night Erin had died and come
back, when he and Duckie did the blood transfusion. He was afraid that
something had happened to him, that his blood wasn't rebuilding and
reproducing properly, afraid that there just wasn't enough of it. Could
that be possible? I didn't really know any more. It seemed that all
sorts of impossible things were happening. Why? 

I went back to the computer and checked for new mail. I didn't have
any. I checked again. Still none. I left the computer and put the TV
on, putting on a tape of one of my favourite episodes of The West Wing.
Daddy called it 'the only show on TV fast enough' for Josh and me to
follow. I loved it. 
  

Something smelt funny. I paused the tape and went into the kitchen,
sniffing the air, trying to figure out what the smell was and where it
was coming from. Then I heard a high-pitched beeping from downstairs. A
smoke alarm. What was burning? 

Kathy had said not to leave the apartment, but - What if something was
on fire? What if the whole building was going to burn down? I
hesitated, butterflies springing up in my stomach, then I grabbed the
spare set of keys and went out, locking the front door. I remembered
people always saying not to use elevators if there was a fire so I took
the stairs - it was only one floor, anyway - and I knocked on the
Williams' front door. I could hear the alarm louder, now, through their
walls. 

Nobody answered. I knocked again, feeling kinda silly but a little
panicky at the same time. "Mrs Williams?" I yelled. 

Still nobody answered. What was I supposed to do now, I wondered,
taking a step back. I couldn't knock the door in or pick the lock or do
whatever it was Mommy or Daddy would do. Should I ask one of the
neighbours if they had a spare key, maybe? No, I couldn't do that. We
didn't know anybody in the building very well. We hadn't had much of a
chance since we'd moved in to really try to get to know people. I
didn't think there was even anybody home. They were all off at work or
school.  
Should I call the fire department? But what if there wasn't really
fire, if it was just something silly that had triggered the fire alarm?
Would they get mad? They'd think I was just a stupid kid who couldn't
think for herself and needed somebody looking after her. I didn't want
that.  

I went back up the stairs and went along to the window at the other end
of the hall, which was right alongside next door. It wouldn't open. I
pressed my face against the glass, trying to see out, maybe see if
there was smoke or something. But I couldn't see anything.  

I stood back, chewing on my lip, trying to figure out what to do,
trying not to panic, wishing the smoke alarm would stop beeping. If
there was a fire it would keep going upward to our apartment, wouldn't
it? How fast would it burn everything? Would I be able to put it out or
would the whole thing just go up in flames? I didn't know much about
fires. 

I went to our apartment door and reached to put the key in the lock but
then I stopped myself. No, I'd better check downstairs again. If it was
really on fire then there'd have to be smoke by now. But why hadn't
anybody else heard the smoke alarm? Was I the only one home? 

I ran down the stairs this time, thinking maybe I could peer under the
door and see in, but there wasn't any gap under the door. The door near
my face felt kinda hot, almost pulsing with warmth. I cautiously put my
hand against it. It was warm, almost hot against my palm. I knew what
that meant, at least. It was kinda a relief to have that certainty. 

I ran back upstairs, running through the apartment quickly to make sure
it hadn't come up through the floor. What was there between the
apartment under us and us? I'd never really thought about it before. 
I picked up the phone. Funny how with everything that had happened I'd
still never called 911 myself before. I pressed the buttons, feeling
all fluttery inside, trying to go through what I wanted to say in my
head. My name is Astrid Moss and I live at fifty-four Olwyn Street,
apartment two C. I think that the apartment under us is on fire. The
smoke alarm is going off but nobody is home... 

What if they put me on hold and then the fire started coming up through
the floor? I thought with sudden horror. What would I do? I'd have to
stamp on the flames, maybe. Did we have a fire extinguisher? Where? 

But they didn't put me on hold. I told the operator about the fire and
she promised me they'd be right out and told me to wait outside on the
street with anybody else in the building.  
I grabbed my cel-phone and ran outside like they'd said. It seemed to
take forever before I heard the sirens, and even though I was worried
that the fire would spread our apartment I was getting a little
excited, too, especially when firemen started spilling out of the
truck. They actually listened when I directed them to the apartment and
some of them ran in to have a look and came out to announce that the
Williams' living room and kitchen were all on fire. 

It only took them five minutes to put out the fire, which was kinda
disappointing. Not that I wanted out house burnt down, but I felt
guilty about calling the fire department out. What if there was a
bigger fire somewhere and they were needed? 

"There's no damage done to the structure of the building," one of the
firemen explained, sitting down next to me on the steps. "Coat of paint
and some new carpet and furniture and the place will be good as new."
He smiled at me. "You did a good job not panicking. Even a fire like
that can be a scary thing to deal with."  
I thought for a moment that he was going to add 'at your age', which so
many people did and I hated. But he just smiled again.  

I shrugged, pleased but trying to sound casual. "I just did what I had
to do." 

"You're a brave young lady." 

If he'd seen me a week ago in the hospital crying and crying he
wouldn't have said that. But I was glad that he'd said it anyway. And
it was true - I had been brave, this time.  

I sat there on the front steps, watching as the firemen explained to Mr
Williams what had happened, trying to remember the last time somebody
had praised or thanked me, but I couldn't think of any time. Mommy's
offhand praise of "Good girl" didn't count. Daddy's little pats on the
head didn't count. Duckie's distracted thanks for looking after Noah
for her didn't count. They'd all been worried about each other and
Erin... 

I bit my lip hard. It hurt but I clenched it tighter between my teeth
til it was bleeding. It couldn't begin to compare to the pain of the
idea of losing Erin, but it was a start. 

     - - - - } - - - - } - - @        t h e   x - f i l e s  

- SCULLY POV - 

The smoky smell conjured up some bad memories. Getting home from our
first full day back at work, the last thing we wanted was to be
confronted with no electricity and the burnt out smell of destruction.
Jacqueline's call to announce reports on Josh's blood test hadn't
improved matters, either - she admitted that his blood pressure and
haemoglobin level were both unusually low. The thought of another sick
child was just too much and I literally just hung up on her, too afraid
that I'd yell at her. She'd done a dangerous transfusion without our
consent and for that I was furious, but at the same time I couldn't
help but wonder if maybe it was that same transfusion that had brought
Erin back. And for that I felt only overwhelmingly grateful. 

"The firemen said that the fire downstairs was caused by an electrical
short," Astrid announced importantly. She *looked* at Josh. "I had to
tell them which one the Williams' apartment was and then -" 

"You were very responsible, Astrid," I agreed quickly. We'd heard that
story several times since we'd walked through the door and despite how
well things were going at the hospital I still found myself sinking to
a low now being at home and having to deal with the mundane. Mulder and
I were both suffering the mood swings, the absolute joy and exultation,
then the tired impatience and anger.  

He'd taken off and I followed him into our bedroom, watching as he
kicked off his suit and pulled on worn jeans and a shirt. I shrugged
off my own jacket and shoes, climbing onto the bed, crawling along it
and hugging a pillow, burying my face in it, pretending that I could
just hide there and sleep soundly for a hundred years. When was the
last time either of us had gotten a real night's sleep? I couldn't
remember.  

"Wake me up in two hundred and fifty years," I muttered, the pillow
muffling my words. I had been pushing myself on for weeks now. It was
time to rest. 

"You can't sleep yet," Mulder protested. I felt weight on my back and
his lips on the back of my neck. "The kids need some dinner. *We* need
some dinner." 

Nuh uh. I didn't want to move. I just wanted to let my limbs turn to
jelly and dissolve into the mattress. 

"How about I order us some pizza?" he suggested, rubbing my back. I let
out a moan at the exquisite relief. My muscles had been tensed far too
long.  

"Pizza?" he asked again. 

"Whatever." I sighed, too content and sleepy to really care about food.
Why was Mulder doing this for me? Why was he so good to me?  

I rolled onto my side, then onto my back, so that I could look at him,
energised by the sudden question. "Mulder, why are you doing this?" 

"Doing what?" 

"Taking care of me." 

He shrugged. "Why not?" 

"Because I'm such a terrible person," I confessed, wistful,
disappointed in myself. "I've been so weak, always tired and stressed
and upset." 

He smiled gently. "We both have been. We all have been. That's no
excuse to stop loving you." He touched my chin, then tucked a strand of
hair back from my face. "I love you for your weaknesses just as much as
I love you for your strengths. It's been like that all along, Scully.
You know that." 

I nodded, ashamed that I'd had to ask, that I'd wondered. How was I so
lucky to have this man who loved me so much, who would put me first
when I needed him? And to be having this new baby and to have Erin back
- what had we done to deserve so much? 

I reached up to touch his face. He'd shaved for work this morning but
his cheeks were already rough again. He was rough, scarred and haunted
and still so willing to look after me when I just couldn't cope.  
He bent down, kissing my forehead lightly, trailing down my nose to my
lips. So sweet, so tender, even when he'd suffered just as greatly as I
had. 

"You're an incredible man," I whispered to him, kissing him back,
touching that beautiful face, loving his mind and his heart.  

He smiled, nuzzling against me and kissing my throat once before
drawing back, taking my hand. "This incredible man has to feed his
incredible family." He climbed off the bed, slowly releasing his grip
on my fingers. He blew me a kiss and backed out of the room, easing the
door closed after him.  

I lay there, gazing at the ceiling, pleasantly relaxed, almost numb,
after Mulder's ministrations. Thinking about sleep, but thinking also
of his warm arms and gentle touch. Why sleep and miss out? 

     - - - - } - - - - } - - @        t h e   x - f i l e s  

- MULDER POV - 

Josh was locked away in his bedroom, sitting at his desk busily
scrawling. He put in an order for super supreme and turned back to his
writing. I paused to watch him, knowing that he had documented the
strains and heartbreak of the last month, curious to read it. I
desperately wanted that window into his mind, some sort of closeness
and understanding.  
I withdrew, knocking and letting myself into Astrid's room. She was
huddled on her bed under the covers, crying.  
I moved forward, reaching out to touch her. "Hey, kiddo, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," she muttered, sniffing back tears. 

"Astrid -" 

She sat up, throwing back the covers, and looked at me fiercely. "I
hate you!" 

I heaved a breath, looking at her steadily. I knew she didn't mean it,
but she still wouldn't have said it without just cause. "Why do you
hate me?" 

"You don't love me or Josh anymore. All you and Mommy care about is
each other and Erin. It wouldn't be so bad if you tried to care about
us too but you're not trying!" 

"What makes you think we're not trying?" 

"You don't even listen to me any more!" she protested, anguished. "You
don't even bother to ask how my day was or find out if I'm unhappy or
why I'm unhappy. You treat me like I don't matter." 

"You know that's not true, Astrid." 

She let out a shriek of frustration. "Don't say stupid stuff like that!
You're not *saying* anything when you say stuff like that! You're not
being honest!" 

"You matter, Astrid. Maybe it's been harder for us to show that lately
because of everything that's been going on with Erin but you can't
accuse us of not trying. Mom and I have been trying damn hard to give
you and Josh equal attention." 

"Because you feel *obligated*!" 

"No, because we love you." 

"That's not enough!" 

Tears were streaming down her cheeks. Her fists were clenching and
unclenching. She was getting hysterical. 
I moved forward and kneeled in front of her. "We love you, Astrid. We
do, and we want to give you the attention you deserve. You're no more
or no less important to us than Josh or Erin. You hear me? We don't
play favourites. But that doesn't mean that some times one of you needs
us more, like Erin has." 
I opened my arms to her, pleading. Over the past few weeks we'd had
little time for more than just our own selves and Erin. Now, with that
burden lifted a little, it was time for some unity. Things had to get
back to normal now or they might never. 

She stared at me, reproachful, still sobbing quietly. I drew her
against me, hugging her close. "I'm sorry, Astrid. We really have been
trying to be fair." 

She sniffed, arms closing around me. "I know." 

     - - - - } - - - - } - - @        t h e   x - f i l e s  

- SCULLY POV - 

The pizza arrived just before eight. We ate it by candlelight in
silence, all of us tired, despondant. I was sleepy and planning on
heading straight to bed after dinner but then Josh produced a pack of
cards, wanting to play a new game one of the nurses at the hospital had
taught him.  
We started to play really only to please Josh but, despite tiredness,
started to enjoy the game. Somehow it helped put things in perspective,
clear the air. Erin was in hospital but getting better by the day - our
miracle baby. The kids were mad at us for neglecting them, and
rightfully so, but we were doing something about it. I was bone tired
but the man I loved with all my heart would tuck me in to bed and I
wouldn't have any more nightmares, not yet, because we were out of the
shadow. 

I leaned over to peek at Mulder's cards. "You got a king?" 

He pulled away, chuckling. "Hey, no cheating!" 

I yawned, pressing my face against his shoulder. "Sleepy," I declared
childishly, taking the opportunity to have another look at his cards.  

He pushed me off him, giving me a mock-stern look. I returned the look
and we both grinned. Then - Oh. "Hey..." 

"What?" 

I put my hand to my belly, smiling, disbelieving but delighted. "The
baby just moved." 

All three of them flew at me. Mulder raised an eyebrow as he laid a
hand on my belly, his smile growing. "Are you sure?" 

I nodded, unable to stop the grin. With everything going on I was
forever forgetting this baby's very existence. In the past weeks when I
had remembered sometimes I'd wished myself back in ignorance. There had
been distinct moments when I didn't want it at all, that I hated it out
of fear that it had been given to us to replace Erin. But as I felt
that stirring I wondered how I could have possibly not wanted this
child, our other undeserved miracle.  

     - - - - } - - - - } - - @        t h e   x - f i l e s  

- MULDER POV -  

Erin came home a week and a half later, again officially in remission.
The staff had still been reluctant to discharge her given all that she
had endured, but they'd also grown short of patience and energy to
handle such an obviously healthy child. Had Erin been this full of life
even before the leukemia? It was as if she had something more than
blood flowing through her veins - there was now this mad passion and
energy for life that kept us all literally on our toes. She was
constantly underfoot, wanting to play games, to be read a story,
wanting food and hugs and a playmate. After having receieved so much
attention over the past weeks she was constantly expecting it, wanting
an audience even when simply playing with her toys, wanting to be
waited on. 
She was all over the house the second she got home, greeting every
piece of furniture, rediscovering her toys, her bed, the TV and the
fridge. We just sat back and watched her with such indescribable
gratitude, one question on our minds - How? 

"Voom! Voom! Brrrrrrrr!" She crawled past us pushing a toy truck.
Somebody had given her a set of them in the hospital and she adored
them with a passion, playing with them night and day.  

Josh crouched down beside her, holding out a small object. "I made
something for you," he told her softly. She reached out, curious, and
as she held it up above her head we saw what it was - a model plane
made of popsicle sticks.  
"It's an airplane," he explained, putting it the right way up in her
hand and showing her, "See, if flies through the air. A plane." 

"Plane," Erin echoed. She grinned at him in thanks, then put it on the
back of her dumptruck and pushed onward with the appropriate rumble of
noise.  

Josh was smiling, but wanly. Disappointed by her indifference, maybe,
after he'd clearly put in so much effort. 
"You okay, kiddo?" I called to him.  

He shrugged. Scully had her arm around my waist and I eased out of her
grip to move closer to Josh. "Still feeling not so great, huh?" 

Another shrug. "Just tired." 

We both knew about the transfusion but neither of us had spoken to him
about it. Maybe it was time to. "You did a brave thing, Josh. We're not
angry at you or at Jacqueline. You did what you felt you had to do.
Maybe that even helped bring Erin back to us." 

He nodded, rubbing tiredly at his eyes. We'd been trying to boost his
energy levels since Jacqueline's diagnosis but little seemed to be
improving. But maybe he, like we, was still waiting for the security of
this day, needing to have Erin back with us and safe before he could
sleep well. 
I nudged him gently. "Time to go get ready for bed." 

He nodded, turning to go, but I swung him up into my arms. It had been
too long since we'd tucked either of the kids into bed. For
kinda-just-turned-seven Josh - he'd insisted on postponing his
'birthday' til we got Erin home and things settled down - it wasn't
right to be putting himself to bed every night. 

Josh changed into pajamas and brushed his teeth with all the weariness
of one who could remember decades of the same nightly rituals. He
climbed into bed, drawing his notebook near but keeping it closed as I
sat on the edge of the bed beside him. "Is that your journal?" 

He hesitated, then nodded. 

"I used to keep a journal, through high school and college. If you're
interested you can have a look, some time." 

He wrinkled his nose. "Is it all about girls?" 

I chuckled. "Probably." 

He smiled a small smile. 

"It's about Samantha, too," I admitted, quieter. "Actually, it kinda
started off addressed to Samantha, telling her everything that
happened, just after she disappeared and how everybody was dealing with
it. I was seeing a psychologist at the time and he suggested that, but
even as I stopped seeing him and everybody stopped searching, I found I
couldn't stop myself writing. I needed somebody to know what was going
on inside me, even if it was a sister who would never come back to read
it." 

"Do you still miss her?" 

I thought about that for a few moments. "I regret not being there to
save her from what she became, but I don't regret the things that she
did, because it was only because of her that we have you and Astrid and
even Erin." 

"But do you miss her?" 

Did I miss her? That laughing, teasing little sister? No, I didn't. I'd
closed that door. But she was still there, a part of my past. "I
remember her." 

He nodded, thinking. "I'd like to read it," he decided, adding slowly,
"but not yet." 
  

     - - - - } - - - - } - - @        t h e   x - f i l e s  

- SCULLY POV - 

I read Erin and Astrid a story on Astrid's bed, but it was actually
Astrid who fell asleep, snoring quietly on my shoulder. Erin was still
as awake as ever and I finished the story, hoping that she too would
fall asleep, but no such luck. The moment I closed the book she
wriggled off my lap and ran out the door.  

I found her playing with her trucks in front of the TV, chewing on a
handful of her favourite cookies, getting crumbs everywhere. While she
was still putting weight back on it wasn't such a big deal, but we'd
eventually have to stop her from constantly raiding the cookie jar. We
had a lot of disciplining still to do else she'd grow up with no
respect for rules or orders. Already we were having trouble getting her
to obey our instructions and with the coming terrible twos it could
only get worse. 

I waited til she was finished the cookies then called her. "Time for
bed, Erin." 

Not even turning to look at me, she shook her head. 

"C'mon, sweetie. You've had a big day." 

I moved forward and swung her up into the air. She let out a shriek in
protest, kicking to be put down. I took her over to the couch, sitting
down with her on my lap, cuddling her close against me, trying to
quieten her down. It took her a few minutes to stop squirming but she
finally seemed to settle down, getting sleepy. She dropped off quickly
and I just held her, her body so warm in my arms, little red mouth open
as her head lolled, her beanie lopsided. She was so alive. It was still
unbelieveable. I still woke up panicking that it was just a dream, a
fantasy played out by my grief-stricken mind. 

"You found the 'off' switch, huh?" Mulder kneeled down beside us,
lightly stroking Erin's face. "She's a little Energiser Bunny. I
thought she'd just keep on going." 

I smiled, reaching to rub the back of his neck as he bent over her,
wanting to hold him close but content, for the time being, to just
caress. 

He stood, taking her from my arms. "I'll put her to bed. You go tuck
yourself in." 

I smiled and stood, kissing Erin goodnight, then gently kissing
Mulder's cheek. He shifted his grip on Erin and wormed an arm around
me, hugging me against him. Not the desperate grip of a grieving man
but just love, affection, that knowledge that we belonged together. And
Erin was a part of that. She completed that in the way that Josh and
Astrid hadn't, no matter how much we loved them. She made us whole. 

     - - - - } - - - - } - - @        t h e   x - f i l e s  

- MULDER POV - 

She was in the dark, kneeling by the bed, forehead resting on loosely
clasped hands. I stood in the doorway just watching her, loving the
complexity of her mind and heart, admiring her all the more for her
struggles.  
She lifted her head and rose, hand to her mouth to stifle a yawn. Then
she reached to untie her robe, letting it fall to the floor, pulling
back the covers and climbing onto the bed. Only as I came forward did
she see me and smile that shy, little girl smile of hers, tucking her
hair back behind her ears. She didn't mind that I'd been watching? 

I pulled the covers back up for her and sat on the edge of the bed,
reaching out to touch the cross around her neck. "How are things?" 

"With God?" 

I nodded. 

She smiled wistfully. "I don't know, Mulder." 

"What were you talking to him about?" 

"Erin. Work." She shrugged. "I don't know what we're going to do. If
nothing else, Mulder, this has been a wake-up call. We've got to spend
more time with Erin, and the kids." 

I laid my hand on her belly through the covers. "And this baby." 

She nodded. "Yeah," she agreed softly, giving me half a smile.  

"So... Did God give you any suggestions?" 

She shook her head ever so slightly. "Not yet. But, it's in his hands."

"Just like Erin was."  

I'd prayed that with her, understood the fierce desperation of her
belief, that even if God couldn't save Erin he would at least take her
into his care. We'd needed to have that promise, that somebody far
greater than ourselves or any other on earth would keep Erin safe in
his arms. I'd prayed that because I wanted that, because I couldn't
bear to think of my beautiful little girl cold and alone. That was why
I'd prayed. But what did that mean? Had it been God who brought Erin
back from the dead? Could a simple sentence have that power? And what
had I committed myself to? If God had done this for us, granted us this
most desperate wish, I couldn't just again turn my back on him, deny
his existence and his power. Could I? *Would* I? 

     - - - - } - - - - } - - @        t h e   x - f i l e s  

- SCULLY POV - 

He was gazing at me but his mind was a million miles away. I laid my
hand on his gently. "What are you thinking?" 

"I'm wondering," he admitted, "who - or what - brought her back to us."

It had been a constant question in my mind, too, but I was no closer to
an answer than I had been three weeks ago. Josh's transfusion? Jacqui's
genetic programming? Our prayer? Had it simply been God's will that
Erin survive?  

"What do you think it was?" I asked him quietly, watching his face.  

He played with my fingers, pensive. Then he raised his eyes again,
looking at me in all honesty, answering with a single, simple word:
"Faith." 

     - - - - } - - - - } - - @        t h e   x - f i l e s  

- JACQUELINE POV - 

"Ohw. Smells like Noah's got a dirty nappy." 

"I'll go change him -" 

"Hey, I can do it. Where's the changetable? His room? Great. Hey, what
have you been feeding the kid? This stuff's toxic..." 

"I can -" 

"Nah, I've got it. Just got to get back into practice. Easy." 

I sighed, leaning back against the doorpost as he wrestled with the
talc and wetwipes and sticky tabs, willing the angry fear away, trying
to be calm, trying to find the strength to hope.  
Erin was home again, safe. Dana had rung earlier in the day and I'd
heard the unbroken joy in her voice as she reported in. They could all
breathe again. It's all over. 

"Hey, Ebs, you reckon you could come watch Noah for us?" 

Ebony's uneven footsteps. She hesitated, then moved to the crib,
gripping the bars, gazing at Noah as he was laid down. He whimpered,
wriggling a little, then just lay there, gazing right back at her. 

Graham took my arms and drew me closer. I fought the feeling of
revulsion as he leaned in, as his lips pressed against mine and his
tongue begged entry. I let him. He started to touch me and despite of
myself and the loathing and disgust I had for him I didn't push him
away. I let him pick me up and carry me into the bedroom we'd once
shared. 
For Dana and Fox and the kids the hell was over. For me, it had only
just begun. 
  

fin.